#*HUMS ANGRILY LIKE A MICROWAVE

[space-noods]

Physical

JJK x Neko! Y/N

“Are pictures normally part of the physical?”

Shoko hummed. “Yeah, it’s to closer compare changes in your body before and after training.” She continued clicking the button on the camera. “You might as well smile and pose since I’m taking so many.”

Looking nervously away from her, you missed the devious smile on her lips. “Wouldn’t that kind of ruin the before and after photo?”

“We can retake the pose in the after pictures too.”

“Right… well do I have to wear this for the photos?”

As the medic in training, it was Shoko’s job to do physicals on all the Jujutsu students. This was nothing new to you. While your clan was a little behind the times, many members were accomplished doctors. As the strongest of your kit, you were closely observed. From your diet to training, everything you did was prescribed by the doctors in the family. So when Shoko approached you about your physical, you really didn’t mind. You were a little confused by how much the higher ups trusted a student to perform as a doctor, but you shrugged that thought off. She wasn’t just any student; she had a reversed cure technique.

In your physicals at home, you were often asked to wear a sports bra and running shorts and nothing more. And when Shoko handed you a bag with clothes you had assumed it was something similar. And sure, the material of the clothes was similar to sportswear. But once you put it on, you noticed there was a big discrepancy between the clothes you expected and the clothes you were wearing.

Instead of a normal sports bra, the cups in this one had little to no support and were more triangular. They barely cover your more sensitive parts and offered a generous amount of side boob. All tied together with a ribbon. The bottoms were worse. You had yet to even wear anything as scandalous as it. The amount of fabric used (or lack thereof) should be considered illegal.

“Just trust me (Name). As an up and coming doctor it’s like illegal to lie to you, I think.”

You weren’t convinced. “Right…”

Shoko insisted you pose and smile. Many times, she would physically force you to hold complicated poses. All while liberally petting your ears and tail.

“You’re tail is really long. I bet your anatomy is pretty wicked.”

“How many more pictures must you take Shoko? This feels a little excessive.”

“Just one more…” She went behind you positioning the camera close to your ass. It was at this moment that you realized what she was doing. Your tail whipped around grabbing the camera and crushing it. Shoko looked up slowly, her guilty eyes meeting your own glaring ones.

“Lucky for you, seems like we’re done!”

Taking the remains of the camera, she ran out. You put your uniform on angrily. Why were those three so hellbent on harassing you! Heading out of the ‘infirmary’ you stomped your way through the commons. Sitting on the couch Gojo and Geto eyed you as you walked past them. Gojo almost leaped out of the seat to jump onto you, but as he rose Geto held the back of his collar.

“Shoko must have done something to her. There’s no point in bothering that stubborn cat. Let’s go to the source.”

Nodding, the duo headed towards Shoko’s room. There, they found her smirking to herself as she looked through another camera. They didn’t bother knocking before making themselves at home. Gojo laid face down on one side, while Geto leaned on the drawer next to the bed.

“She’s acclimating to the modern world pretty quick, but not quick enough!” She evilly giggled to herself.

“Yeah, she used to speak so formally! It was cute! She was like a little alien. Remember how she spent a whole day looking at the microwave?” Gojo sighed fondly, stroking the pillow near him as if it were your head.

“What did you do to her, Shoko. Her tail was raised and she was chittering all the way back to her room. Even her teeth were poking out. You and Satoru need to stop bothering her.”

Shoko scoffs, not taking her eyes off the camera. “As if you have the right to critique me. I know you harass her as much as we do! Anyways… you two might be interested in what I have~”

Gojo’s head peaked and Geto leaned closer.

“She got a little pissed when she figured out what I was doing. She’s quick, y know? So she she broke my camera with her tail. I won’t lie, it was pretty cool. But there went 30 minutes of hard work. Too bad she didn’t destroy the chip~”

At the end of her monologue she flipped the camera, showing the tiny screen. As Geto and Gojo leaned in, they made out a picture of you bash fully posing in a black bikini. Instantly, they reached out for the camera, desperate to see the picture closer. Just as they reached it, Shoko snatched the camera away.

“If you want to see more, you’ll have to pay up!”

Thanks for Reading!

More Neko Reader:

Neko Reader Blurb (JJK)

Neko Reader Origin (JJK)

[kfinalgirls]

Scream

༊*·˚Admin Lulu Presents~ ༊*·˚Pairing: Choi San x Lulu (OC) 1st pov x Park Seonghwa ༊*·˚Genre/Trope/Au: smut, horror, established relationship, scream au, college au ༊*·˚Rating: R rated, +18 MDNI ༊*·˚Warnings: mentions blood, gore, death, knives, violence (smut will be included in future chapters) ༊*·˚Kinks: fear kink, penetrative sex with no barrier ༊*·˚Word Count: 1,567 ༊*·˚Credits to @kitsunecafe for the divider ༊*·˚Synopsis: When a killer begins to target students of my college--and also starts calling me to brag about it--San is there to comfort me. But throw in his creepy best friend and my world begins to crumble around me ༊*·˚ All Posts ||| Part Two

It was Thursday night, movie night for San and I. Or it was supposed to be movie night. San currently had his head buried in my neck, sneakily placing light kisses and the occasional kitten lick.

"San," I sighed, "I thought we were watching movies."

"We are," he said without missing a beat, "You know the teenagers always get horny within the opening scene. I'm not missing anything." San took the opportunity to suck a love bite and I moaned.

"No, no!" I said, pushing San off of me, "I want to watch this movie. Go make us popcorn if you're bored."

San sent me a hurt look but nonetheless got up gracefully to make his way to my kitchen. I settled back into the couch, curling into the warmth that San left on the cushions and focused on the movie. 

Or I tried to. Next I got a message on my phone. I ignored it and then I got a phone call. I frowned because it wasn't a number I recognized. I ignored it and expected a voice-mail for later if it was important. Except my phone rang again. What the hell?

I answered it angrily, "Hello?!"

"Hello, beautiful," an odd voice addressed me.

Nah, who was this creep? "Who is this, why are you calling me?"

"I just wanted to hear your sweet voice. Are you enjoying your movie?"

I stiffened. How the hell did anyone know that I was watching a movie with San? "No, I'm not enjoying it because you so rudely interrupted me."

"Come on, Lulu, don't be like that! You should have let San make out with you. We all know you get horny too, during those scenes.”

I got off the couch and moved to the window of my apartment. I looked out but couldn't see if anyone was spying on me from the other buildings across the street. Weird. I began to close the curtains just in case. “Look, if this is Wooyoung, this isn't funny. This breaks some kind of law and I’m sure--”

The voice on the other side of the phone laughed at me. “Wooyoung isn’t smart enough to figure out how to spy on you. Come on, you can do better than that.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “San?” 

The voice sounded amused at my guess. “Oh no, your boyfriend is currently making you popcorn, remember? He’s quite dedicated to you. Just like I am. Go on, check.”

I peeked around the corner and indeed, San was making popcorn. He was on his phone with his lower back pressed against the counter as the microwave hummed. I moved further back into the living room, hissing into my phone, “Why are you doing this?”

“Scary movies make you horny. San knows this. I know this. Why do you think he gave up sucking on your neck to make popcorn. He wants to hand feed it to you. And if his fingers so happen to slip into your mouth, you know how good you are at sucking on them.”

For some fucked up reason, my breathing started to quicken. I was getting turned on in this creepy situation. How did this caller know so much about my quirks? “Listen, this isn’t funny. Don’t call me back.” I hung up and then put my phone down like it was possessed. Of course the phone rang and rang and rang. I wasn’t going to play this game. 

Except for San’s prompting from the kitchen. “Babe, your phone is ringing! Pick it up before it drives me insane!”

I picked it up shakily and answered the phone. “What?” I couldn't help but say petulantly. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, Lulu!” The voice cooed sickly-sweet into my ear, “Don’t you like being scared? Aren’t your panties wet right now? What if I were to tell you that I’m killing someone as we speak? Would that get you hot? Would you touch yourself for me while San is in the kitchen making you popcorn and hoping you’ll let him fuck you on your couch?”

I couldn't help the whine that I let out and squeezed my thighs together. “Don’t.”

“This girl’s blood surely isn’t as pretty as yours. She didn’t understand my artistry like you would.” The caller paused and I could hear some obscene sucking noises, “Bet her blood doesn’t taste as good as yours would.”

I hung up the phone quickly as San came into the living room. “Who was that?” San asked absentmindedly. I rushed to the couch and tucked myself into San’s side. San looked at me in concern. “Babe, you’re shaking, what’s wrong?”

“I got a creepy call,” I whispered. Was he watching right now? Was he angry I hung up on him?

San put his arm around me and rubbed my shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m with you. Who would dare try to hurt you with me here? I’d murder them,” San reassured me. “Come on, eat some popcorn with me and let’s watch the movie.”

San unpaused the movie and started to feed me popcorn, not letting me touch the bowl. I could hear as the couple that had been fucking in the woods screamed as the killer came upon them. San’s eyes weren’t on the screen, however. He was watching as I put my tongue out to catch the popcorn and bring it into my mouth. “You’re so hot,” San murmured, his face so close I could feel his breath on my face.

I pouted, still part turned on, part upset that the caller and my boyfriend knew things about me that weren’t right. “San.”

San grinned at me, slow and knowing. “I won’t tell anyone we fuck while we watch scary movies.”

“I’m so wet right now,” I whimpered and surged forward to kiss San’s lips.

I’m embarrassed to say that we did indeed fuck on my couch while the scary movie played in the background completely forgotten. Once San sunk so deep into me with one leg tossed over his shoulder, I didn’t recall the creepy call or what was happening on the movie screen. I was too busy with my fingers threaded through San’s hair, making out while he fucked me slowly to pay attention to the screams or the notifications on my phone about emails from the university…

The next day San and I took the train together to university. San didn’t have classes today but he always liked to tag along to mine. “This way I can sleep through a class and not get yelled at,” He grinned mischievously at me.

We walked from the train station to the quad, San’s arm around my waist and keeping me close. Normally his skinship borderlined possessive but today I sucked it all in. That fucking phone call had shaken me to my core.

“HEY!” A loud voice from behind us scared the both of us, causing us to jump. I whirled around and found a pleased Wooyoung with his tongue in between his teeth. “Have you guys heard yet? About the dead girl?”

I felt all my blood leave my face, “Dead girl?” 

This girl’s blood surely isn’t as pretty as yours.

“Yeah!” Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically, “Apparently one of the students here was found last night, deader than a doornail.”

“What happened?” San asked curiously.

“They say it's manslaughter. They found her with her throat slit but that’s not even the worst part.” Wooyoung leaned in conspiratorially. “They found some serrated fingers stuffed into her mouth.”

And if his fingers so happen to slip into your mouth, you know how good you are at sucking on them.

I dropped my phone and then quickly picked it up off the ground. “Um, I really gotta get to class. There’s some questions I've been meaning to ask the professor. You can catch up to me later, San. Bye Woo.”

I almost jogged into the school and quickly found my Geology lab. No one was there yet and I let out a sigh of relief. I needed a few moments to collect myself. My breathing was erratic and my heart was beating out of my chest. What the actual fuck was going on???

I got a message on my phone and practically jumped out of my skin when the vibration came from my back pocket. I shakily opened it up and read what the message said.

{8:02am} Private Number: Open your purse. I left a gift there for you

I unslung my purse from around my body and unzipped it. I glanced inside and then felt myself get lightheaded. I dropped my purse and out rolled a pinky finger. I stuffed my hand into my mouth to muffle the sobs that were threatening to escape. 

My phone vibrated from onto the counter that I had left it on. I was in too deep now. I had to check it. 

{8:07am} Private Number: This is my pinky promise to you that I’ll see you soon. Get it? Pinky promise? 🤭

I grabbed the pinky finger with a plastic glove the professor had for handling precious rocks. I wrapped it up in it and put it back in my purse. I couldn't put it in the garbage, what if someone found it?

{8:10am} Private Number: See you soon 😘

I rushed to the garbage and threw up. Why was this happening to me???

༊*·˚ All Posts ||| Part Two

[lucyvsky]

my microwave is mad that i called it "an evil and cruel machine most likely manufactured by the devil" and it's now humming angrily at me

[veritas-dolos]

How to Cope by Leo and Mikey Ch. 4

Leo’s eyes cracked open at the sound of Mikey entering his room. 

This isn’t my room.

With a quick look around, it was in fact Mikey’s room, the turtle in question looking at him oddly. “Uhh, I made dinner a few hours ago. There are leftovers in the fridge if you want any.” Mikey said, sliding further into his room. With a quick glance across his little brother's face, he realized he was still pissed at him, and Mikey’s comment was his queue to leave. 

“Yeah, I’ll go eat. Thanks.” Leo said, awkwardly leaving the room. He shuffled toward the kitchen, pulling his sleeves down when he realized they slid up a little while he slept. He hoped Mikey didn’t see anything. 

Leo pulled open the fridge and grabbed the food Mikey had made, just some burritos. He didn’t know if it was because he was too lazy or too depressed, because he just threw it on a plate to eat it cold. He sat at his spot at the counter with hunched shoulders and slowly chewed his food. 

“He lives! Didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” Donnie said, waltzing into the kitchen toward the coffee pot. Leo looked over his shoulder and huffed, letting a brief smile grow on his face. 

“What, disappointed?” Leo smirked at his brother, taking another bite. 

Donnie hummed sarcastically. “We will never know,” he decided, filling up the coffee pot with water. 

Leo watched him, mind foggy. “Hey, wanna put some on for me? I think I could use some tonight,” He said, finishing his burrito. Maybe they had more in the fridge.

“Yeah, sure,” Donnie said, going to put more water into the machine. Leo went to the fridge and pulled out another burrito, this time popping it into the microwave. He at least needed to appear to be mentally well. 

“I swear, it’s been like ten years since we’ve talked,” Leo said. 

“Ten years seems like a little bit of a stretch, Leon,” Donnie said, watching as the brown liquid dripped into the pot. They stood in silence for a while, Leo watching the timer on the microwave and Donnie intent on watching each drop of coffee hit the pot. “Leo, are you– Never mind.” Donnie said, briefly looking over his shoulder at his twin.

Oh god. Is this gonna be another heartfelt conversation? Leo thought to himself. How many more will Pizza Supreme in the sky put me through?

“No, tell me,” Leo said, desperate for him not to ask what he knew he was going to ask.

“Are you okay?” 

And there it is. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Leo said, not wanting to have this talk. With Donnie of all people. Turtles?

Donnie exhaled quickly, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and setting it harshly on the counter. “You know, you keep saying that, and I keep not believing it,” Donnie said, turning around with the start of tears in his eyes. “I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t notice.”

Fuck. Oh fuck oh shit. Leo swore at himself. This was not going the way he thought he would. 

“Notice what?” Leo said weakly, because he was so good at covering it up. Where did he mess up? He was always so careful. He took every precaution. 

“Notice what? You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Donnie said, angrily grabbing another mug for his brother. At the same time, the microwave beeped, and they both took another moment of silence while they got their things ready. 

Leo sat down at the counter with his burrito in front of him. Donnie slammed his mug down in front of him, and he saw as the brown liquid spilled over the edge. He waited for Donnie to say something so he wouldn’t incriminate himself.

“When the first one went missing, I didn’t think anything of it. But when the second one disappeared, I knew someone was stealing them,” Donnie said.

And then Leo knew. The box cutters. Mikey stole them, not him. But he wasn’t gonna throw Mikey under the bus, not for this. He was a good brother, and he was going to protect him. 

“The Krang affected all of us, but self harm? Seriously?” Donnie whisper-yelled. 

Leo cringed, not liking how he said the whole term. This is going poorly.

“It doesn’t help that you wear that same fucking sweatshirt all the time. You can't tell me that's not suspicious as hell,” Donnie said, crossing his arms at him. Leo looked down at his sweatshirt and yeah, that was a little weird. Maybe he wasn’t as good at hiding it as he thought. 

Donnie put his head in his hands as he watched him. “Just– go get me the box cutters. I don’t want you doing that anymore.” He said, taking a sip of his coffee and looking anywhere but Leo. 

And damn, did that hurt. He didn’t even say anything along the lines of, I’m sorry you’re going through this, or even I’m here for you. Leo knew it wasn’t his strong suit, but this just made him feel worse. 

“You got it, Don-Tron,” Leo said, giving a mock salute. He quickly got up and rushed to Mikey’s room, knowing that’s where he left them.

Leo barged into Mikey’s room. “Mikey, we got a code red. Donnie’s onto us,” He said, going over to Mikey’s desk where the box cutters were. 

Mikey’s head whipped up from his switch to look at him, panic rising. “What. H– How? When? What’s going on, what happened? Leo, what happened?” Mikey said, curling into himself. 

Leo’s heart squeezed at his panic. “Everything’s under control. I’ll be back later and I’ll explain everything.” He said, not looking back as he rushed out of the room. 

Leo walked as fast as he could back to the kitchen. He looked down at the blades and noticed that the handle on one of them had a pretty big bloodstain, and the other’s blade was crusty with blood. I’m so fucked. 

Leo sat back at the counter and threw the box cutters in front of Donnie, them sliding across the counter until they came to a stop in front of him. He took his burrito and took a huge bite so he wouldn’t have to say anything. 

Donnie clearly noticed the bloodstains on the blades. He stared down at them, then looked at his brother. Leo’s eyes quickly focused on his burrito yet again, not leaving it for anything. Donnie’s hand wrapped around them, gripping them tightly. “Thanks,” He mumbled, rubbing a finger across the dried blood. 

“Mhm!” Leo hummed brightly, trying to lighten the moment. Donnie gave him a look to let him know he failed. 

Donnie went to leave the room. “If you ever… Need someone to talk to about this,” Donnie said, “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you, Leo,” He managed, leaving the room before Leo could respond.

Ch. 1 Ch. 3 Ch. 5

[queeniebee6]

Denn die Todten reiten Schnell (For the dead travel fast)

Summary: Hawkins has started to fall, and the gang – finally together again – needs to fix it. Eddie’s alive and well… almost miraculously? But things are far too dire to be concerned with something as unbereaved as that. That is until things take a strange turn.

// OR Greatly wounded, Vecna revives and enlists an undead Eddie to insert himself back into his friend’s lives, but Eddie himself doesn’t realise what he’s been signed up for until things start changing… and he can’t stop himself.

Ao3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Eddie woke up stiff, like he hadn’t used his limbs in years. He groaned as he sat up and slung his legs off the edge of the bed. He didn’t remember getting into bed last night, but he sure was glad to finally have gotten some rest. The constant running and hiding had exhausted him, and he hoped that the Vecna induced cracks through Hawkins would be just far enough into the realms of impossibility, that people might finally consider that Eddie could actually be an innocent man.

Figuring that school was most definitely cancelled, Eddie was slow to get himself ready. Where to? The Wheeler’s? Too far to get to undetected; Robin’s? She was close, but he had no idea whether she’d be home, or where her parents stood on the whole ‘Eddie the murderer’ thing. Spying the walkie-talkie on his nightstand, he flicked the switch and allowed static to make white noise in his small bedroom; he pressed the button and spoke clearly.

“Hey, Henderson. You home?” Eddie asked, awaiting a response with his tongue pressed to his top lip as he attempted to wriggle into his pants with his free hand. He placed the walkie-talkie on the bed as the static spread through the air; he jimmied on a shirt and jacket before scooping up the walkie-talkie once again. “Hey, Henderson,” He sung as he toed on his shoes and made his way the few short steps to the trailer kitchenette. Eddie let out a frustrated sigh as he set the walkie-talkie down a little forcefully on the bench. The static of the device and the hum of the bar fridge sang harmoniously as Eddie opened the cupboard over the sink. Bare. Understandable, really; groceries were hardly the first thing on anyone’s mind when they’re cars were 60 feet deep in sinkholes. Eddie thought for a moment, clutching the half-open kitchen cupboard; just like he couldn’t remember going to sleep last night, he couldn’t remember when the ‘earthquake’ hit. He’d known it had happened; he could close his eyes and picture it – vividly in fact, but being asked to recall his own whereabouts, he was coming up blank.

Eddie shook away the thought like an incessant housefly, turning back to the still radio-silent walkie-talkie. He grabbed it angrily, a white-knuckle grip on the black hardware. “Hey, Henderson!” He crooned sarcastically. “Where are you?” He continued as he squat down before the bar fridge. Reaching in aimlessly with one eyes squinted in focus, Eddie emerged with an energy drink, a little past its prime but with a kick nonetheless… reminded him of Uncle Wayne in that way. He held the drink in his free hand, trying to pry open the tab but unable to get a suitable grip. He bought the drink up to his mouth, the walkie-talkie static once again filling the room. Eddie’s teeth held the can’s tab and acted as a lever. As the spritz of carbonation burst from the opening, Eddie felt his tooth click again the ring. He let out a frustrated groan as he watched a tiny chip of his tooth bounce onto the rim of his can. “Ahh, fuck,” Eddie muttered under his breath, finger coming up to graze the now jagged edge of his right canine. He stood up a little taller to peer at his reflection in the microwave door; it was a little unsightly, but not unfitting for his look. Metal.

Eddie’s mind flicked back to his unresponsive walkie-talkie and he let out an incredulous groan. He needed to find a way to get to wherever his friends were and quick, before any angry mobs came knocking. His Mike Myers mask was long discarded, and given the state of Hawkins, Eddie wasn’t sure that disguise wouldn’t bode well for him anyway.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, running his hand over his face. Eddie fiddled aimlessly with the dial, wondering if maybe he’s gotten the channel wrong. He twisted it to six and heard muffled chatter.

“Meet outside the Creel House. Lucas is with Max, but Erica will meet us there. 20 minutes, max.” It was Dustin, talking animatedly through crackling. Eddie slammed his can on the counter and pressed his button at light speed.

“Henderson!” He said, both gleeful and relieved. “Hey, sorry man. I was on the wrong channel. What’s going on? What’s the plan? I feel like I’m out of the loop on everything right now.” Eddie chuckled, leaning backwards against the kitchen counter.

The line went silent. Just static. Eddie’s brows furrowed as he awaited a response.

“Dustin?” He queried after about 15 seconds.

“Eddie?” Robin’s voice was quiet and hesitant. “Eddie?” She repeated, disbelief cutting the fuzz.

“Yeah?” Eddie questioned, unsure why Robin sounded so shaken. “You okay?’ He asked, running his tongue over his newly chipped tooth.

“Where are you?” Came Steve’s voice after an odd amount of silence.

“At home?” Eddie queried, “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be…” He mumbled, his confusion mounting as he pulled his hair over his cheek to feel the comforting movement of the locks on his skin.

“We’ll… we’ll come get you,” Steve mumbled. “Stay put,” he added.

“That was the plan, Harrington.” Eddie replied, flicking the walkie-walkie off and taking a long sip of his drink as he waited.

------

Steve pulled up with a screech and Eddie peered through the kitchen blinds just to be sure. He met Steve and Dustin at the door, letting them in quickly. They both looked quite shaken; like they’d seen a ghost. Dustin hugged him tentatively, gripping his arms before moving into an embrace. “Eddie,” he whispered, pulling back and looking up at the taller man. Eddie shared confused looks with Dustin and Steve, who shared petrified glances with each other.

“Eddie – this is going to sound crazy… and I mean crazy even for us-“ Dustin started, only to be cut off by Steve.

“Are you feeling okay?” Steve queried; Dustin looked at him a little strangely. “Do you know what day it is?” He added, causing Eddie to crack a smile.

“It’s March… 29? Are you okay, Steve?” Steve let out a relieved exhale.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Ed. It’s just…” Steve mumbled, looking at Dustin with unease. “We thought you were in the Upside Down. We thought you were… stuck.” He explained, dancing around the world. Dead. Such a concrete word, but which such a fluid interpretation was standing before them in the flesh. Alive as ever.

“Oh,” Eddie exclaimed, looking around him. “I don’t exactly remember how I got here to be fair. Memory’s a little spotty.” He said jovially, making mystical fingers by his head. Steve’s brows were furrowed as he nodded along. Dustin seemed to be unable to overcome his disbelief.

“Eddie, I don’t know how to break this to you…” Dustin began, his voice solemn and unsure. Again, Steve stepped before him to silence the younger boy.

“Good news and bad news,” he interjected, Dustin looking at him with continued confusion. “Bad news: you’re still a wanted man, so we’re going to have to be careful moving you around town. Good news: lots of people think you died in the earthquake, so they’re not actively looking for you.” Steve concluded, Dustin an odd mixture of confused and seething. Eddie nodded along, seeming to digest the news better than much of the previous.

“Steve!” Dustin announced loudly, an aggressive hand clapping the older man’s shoulder. “Can I talk to you a moment?” He asked, in a tone that suggested both he and Steve knew exactly what their little talk was going to be about. Dustin dragged Steve the few steps into Eddie’s bedroom; the denim-clad undead still visible through the open door.

“What are you doing?” Dustin whisper-yelled. “He died. I saw it. You saw it.” He continued, eyes flicking from Steve to Eddie.

“Yeah, I get that Dustin. But, clearly not,” Steve responded, gesturing to a very alive Eddie just a few feet away

“But how is that possible?’ Dustin queried, waving his arms around a little maniacally.

“I don’t know!” Steve said back, in the same tone. “Whose to say that after we went back through the gate without him that he didn’t regain consciousness.” Dustin shook his head immediately.

“We checked; Nancy of all people checked! We weren’t going to leave him there if there was a chance he was just unconscious.” Dustin rambled, thinking through such a dilemma clearly exhausting him.

“Weirder things have happened, and you know it.” Steve admitted, “Eddie doesn’t remember possibly dying, and we don’t have all the answers yet, so let’s not give him a play by play. The whole town thought Will was dead – body and everything. I think it’s more telling that Eddie is standing in front of us ready to piss everyone off again, than it is that we – while in Vecna’s Upside Down, AKA, the dude that likes to make people see things that aren’t there – saw him die. What do you think?” Steve continued, hands on hips as he awaited Dustin’s opinion.

“I guess you’re right,” Dustin sighed in defeat.

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve returned, a smug smile and raised eyebrows.

“I said, I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just having a little trouble-“ Dustin was quick to cut Steve and his gloating off.

“Okay, alright. That’s enough.” He groaned, turning back through the door before Steve could delight himself any further. Steve and Dustin arrived back in the living area in a few short steps, and Eddie had seemed unphased by their departure. “Okay, Eddie,” Dustin announced as he returned. “With all the chaos, we’re quite sure we can get you in Steve’s car without anyone noticing. We’ll get to Mike’s and figure it out from there.” Dustin explained, Eddie nodding along, rhythmically. The trio snuck Eddie into Steve’s car and were quick to exit the trailer park undetected. As they drove, with Eddie laying on the floor of the backseat, Dustin radioed the group.

“Hey, guys; we have Eddie. We’re on our way to Mike’s – see you soon,” he said quickly, turning off his walkie-talkie before it could illicit a response, likely due to how wild that statement seemed when the general consensus was that Eddie was dead.

“Hey, Ed?” Steve queried, looking in his rearview mirror, as if Eddie wasn’t too far down to see; Eddie responded with a hum of acknowledgement. “What do you remember?” Steve asked, confusion evident in his voice and knitted brows.

“I remember…” Eddie began, his voice bouncing along with every pothole. “I remember our plan to defeat Vecna – lights, silence, fire – all that good shit,” Eddie detailed, a smile crossing Steve’s face as he pictured Eddie’s hand flying around through his explanation. “I remember my epic guitar solo,” Eddie continued. “I remember the Earthquake.” He mumbled through his train of thought. “Then things get a little hazy,” Eddie admitted. “I remember waking up, but not how I got there… was I drinking?” Eddie let out a little chuckle, and Steve instinctively grinned at the sound. ���A little inappropriate, I know. But… not exactly out of character.” He mumbled, as if the conversation had transformed into his inner monologue.

“You don’t remember getting out of the Upside Down?’ Steve queried, eyes shifting to Dustin who remained passive and quiet. Eddie shrugged before realizing Steve couldn’t see him.

“Nope,” he confirmed, popping the ‘p’ as he spoke. “How did we get out?” Eddie asked, Steve and Dustin’s necks snapping to look at each other.

“Umm…” Steve began, “you stayed back to get your guitar, so… I guess we’re not really sure.” Steve lied, before focusing on the road and hoping Eddie wouldn’t ask anymore questions. The car fell silent, Dustin and Steve sitting with an internalized stiffness; Eddie comfortably watching as the clouds whizzed by the top of the window he could see. Eddie didn’t usually like silence; it made his jaw clench and his skin feel like TV static, but there was something quite calming about the low mumbling of the car from his position in the foot carriage. Instead of making him carsick, the unevenness of the road was practically rocking him to sleep. He would occasionally watch as Steve’s hand came into his view to change gears, but for the most part he watched the sky fly by peacefully.

“Eddie…” His eyes flicked in the general direction of the slow, whispered call.

“Yeah?” Eddie queried, lifting his head to frivolously look towards his friends. Dustin’s head whipped around to meet him.

“Hm?’ Dustin questioned; the fatigue evident even in his young face.

“Did you say something?” Eddie asked, brows knitting together behind his fringe.

“No,” Dustin said gently, turning back towards the dashboard. Eddie shrugged it off, his head back on the car floor.

Their journey to Mike and Nancy’s ended with a lurching stop. Eddie didn’t like the sound of the crunching gravel so close to his ear. Steve opened the door and the gust of wind that hit Eddie was pleasing. Eddie crawled out the car and through the back door as inconspicuously as possible.

Once they arrived in the Wheeler’s basement, the gang’s bewildered looks mimicked that of Dustin and Steve.

“Eddie…” Nancy whispered, stepping forward as if to inspect him. “You d-“ Nancy was swiftly cut off.

“Don’t remember how he got out of the Upside Down, exactly Nancy,” Steve said loudly. “We think Eddie hit his head after the earthquake hit because his memory’s a little spotty.” Steve’s eyes were wide and telling, like they were trying to speak a different story. An unsettled hush fell over everyone, like they had successfully translated Steve’s message; the older boy clapping once as he stepped closer into a huddle, Eddie joining in like he’s never left.

[yanohawxcm]

Intrusion - TMNT COMMISSION

2000 Word Simple Scene Commission

Purchased By @theeyeofthearchive

A steady fog began to roll through the air, clouding the already dark night sky. The docks themselves were empty, overhead lights flickering and buzzing with a harsh luminescence. All the workers had gone home for the night, trucks sat unmanned in fenced off yards and buildings empty save for crates and containers from the days deliveries. The only thing to disturb the silence was the slight grinding of a manhole cover being lifted and cast aside. From the depths emerged several hulking figures. Cloaked in shadow, they made their way across the docks. Avoiding every stray beam of light as they centered on a particular warehouse near the back. One of the figures produced a sai from its side, jamming it into a padlock on the fence surrounding the warehouse, and busting it open. With a path inside, the figures rushed to the nearest open entrance. A window that had been left ajar. Once inside, one of the figures located the lights and turned them on. The once black interior of the warehouse now lit up to reveal an impossible number of shipping crates.

            “Donnie, status report on the location of the kraang artifact.” Leo called out, surveying the area for any sign of trouble.

            Donnie looked down at a small PDA he had brought with him, kitted out with other bits of electronic scrap and wires, antenna, and blinking lights. Its screen displayed a possible, though not exact location for some sort of unknown object. Once examining its position, Donnie replied.

            “Looks like Casey’s information worked out. It’s near the back of the building, probably in one of those blue cargo containers. We should start there and make our way closer to the signal.”

            Leo nodded, then motioned towards Mikey and Raph. “Keep watch while me and Donnie check for the artifact.”

            “We should exercise caution. We don’t know what the artifact is, only that it was brought in under the cover of top-secret cargo and emits a huge energy signature.” Donnie’s PDA beeped and hummed loudly, scanning, and flashing as it searched for their target.

            “Noted. We’ll try not to damage it.” Leo replied.

            “Imagine if the artifact was like, some sort of kraang microwave. For reheating weird space alien takeout. That’d be kinda rad now that I think about it.” Mikey mused, kicking back against a crate, and fiddling with his nunchucks.

            “No, it’d be kinda stupid. Its probably some sort of death machine or cosmic time bomb or whatever messed up thing they’ve got in reserve for us.” Raph bit back, taking his job of standing watch a bit more seriously. His arms crossed and sai in hand.

            “Yeah, but like, imagine if its some sort of supped up space ride! With hotrod flames and intergalactic fifty-sided fuzzy dice on the rearview mirror. Think Leo would let me drive it?” Mikey peaked up with an excited tone.

            “Hell no, he won’t even let you touch the TV remote anymore after you-”

            “Would both of you just shut up and stand watch.” Leo called back angrily, turning to follow Donnie further into the narrow paths between containers. Slowly inching their way towards the mysterious signal on Donnie’s PDA.

            All the while, from far above them in the warehouse rafters, a fifth figure was observing the group in silence. They kept tabs on the turtles locations, and when they separated the figure moved in closer.

            Leo felt their presence for a moment, his nerves suddenly shooting up and a feeling of unease rising in his chest. He heard faint movements from all around him, darting between shadows and behind corners. The constant, burning feeling of being watched singed its way into the back of his skull. Instinctively, he readied himself to draw his Katana’s. 

            “Any closer to the source?” He asked, his nervousness clear in his voice.

            Donnie nodded and pointed to a particular container that stood out from the others. It was damaged, whatever previous company name that had been painted on its side had long since faded. Both brothers studied the container up and down before coming to a high-tech pad on the containers door.

            “It’ll take me a few minutes to crack the encryption.” Donnie said, stepping up to the pad and plugging his PDA into one of its panels. “I’ll let you know when I-”

            Time seemed to slow for a moment, everything around them screeching to a sudden halt. Leo had heard it the moment it rang out. A shifting of air so subtle, that anyone else would have assumed it was their own breath. To the well-trained ear however, it was the distinctive sound of action. Leo drew one of his blades and swung it up in defense. It clashed almost immediately with the side of a thick, wooden quarterstaff. At the other end of that staff, was a massive creature. Covered in shadow, though barring a striking similarity to the brothers in its silhouette. As their weapons collided, Leo called out for Raph and Mikey. Donnie stood back, protecting himself and continuing to work on the lock.

            Raph was the first to round the corner towards Leo’s cries. Stopping for a moment to assess the situation. Leo was fighting with what seemed to him to be a blur. An opponent much closer to them in skill then some street thug or foot clan assassin. Leo’s sword cut through the air with a deadly precision. Meeting the staff over and over again, deflecting a relentless barrage of blows and strikes. The two fighters moved quickly, using any advantage they could to gain the upper hand over the other. At one point, Leo got in close enough to strike the stranger, though he only managed to graze their shoulder before they reacted. Lifting their knee up and striking Leo in the stomach, tossing him backwards into a stumbled roll. Raph ran to face the stranger next, but Mikey overtook him, leaping from above out of nowhere with his nunchucks flailing around in the air.

            “Sneak attack!” He screamed, entirely missing the point of a sneak attack as he came crashing down on the stranger. He held on tight to their body as they thrashed about.

            Eventually, the stranger was able to toss Mikey off, rolling him into Raph and knocking both turtles to their feet. By now, Leo had gotten back up to his feet and was ready for round two. Steadying himself, he spoke to the stranger. His voice stern and solid.

            “Who are you, and who do you work for.”

            The stranger didn’t reply, only narrowing their eyes and bounding towards Leo. They leapt into the air to strike from above, and for a moment they exposed themselves to the light. Leo’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the strangers form.

            “Wait!” He called out, raising his sword to block their attack and roll them over his shoulder. “We don’t have to fight, lets talk about this for a second!”

            As the stranger recovered from the roll, they spoke their first words. Revealing that did not do they look like the brothers but sounded like them as well. Albeit, with a more feminine tone.

            “I don’t talk with those who work for the kraang.” She snarled.

            “Kinda already doing that my dude!” Mikey sprang out from the strangers left, a bit more serious with his strikes this time. The unpredictable motions and angles of his nunchucks proved to be a bit more of a challenge then Leo’s sword. The stranger getting hit a fair few times before they let out a loud grunt and charged Mikey head on. Using their shoulder to bash the turtle against the side of a shipping container and knocking him out of the fight for good.

            “Got it!” Donnie’s triumphant exclamation drew the attention of the stranger, who now ran towards the turtle full force. Donnie readied himself but couldn’t lift his staff quick enough to meet the others. He was knocked to his feet, his weapon falling to the ground. The stranger picked it up and examined it for a moment, as if trying to discern its origins before they accidentally discovered a mechanism within the staff’s core. With a slight twist of the wooden staff, a blade emerged from one end. Donnie didn’t need to see the strangers’ face fully to know it had made them smirk a little.

            Rising to his feet, Donnie began fending off the strangers attacks by hand, bruises scoring his arms as he tried blocking each hit. Then, the stranger swept out his feet with the staff, cutting Donnie deep along the side of his leg.

            “Enough!” Leo roared, delivering a harsh blow to the strangers back that threw them forward. “We don’t work for the kraang. If you’d just listen for a moment, we could explain why we’re here.”

            “There’s nothing to explain. You’re after kraang tech, and I can’t let you get your hands on it.” The stranger stood once more, their vigor to fight almost impressing Leo. If this stranger weren’t trying to stop their mission, he might have even offered them a position on the team.

            “We need that kraang tech. The less secret space-whatever’s in the hands of those alien freaks the better. If you’re gonna stand in our way sobeit. You won’t last long.” With those final words, both Leo and the stranger charged each other. The stranger using Donnie’s modified staff and Leo using his drawn swords. Blades flung and swung about. Slashing and cutting anything they came across. Leo took the initiative in the fight, pressing hard towards the stranger. His aggressive yet calculated strikes coming close to overpowering her. A few times he even managed to surprise her, landing blow after blow and cutting up her body bit by bit. Though no matter how close he came to beating her, she just kept going. Pushing through the pain and tracking Leo with an intense, single-minded will to beat him. As the battle raged on, she overtook Leo’s strikes. Using one of the shipping containers as a launching point and striking Leo with the side of the staff. It landed right across his head, knocking him unconscious. As Leo’s body fell to the floor, the stranger staggered towards him. Their breath heavy and stagnant. They lifted Donnie’s staff up, ready to stab Leo with the retractable blade when suddenly, they heard movement behind them.

            “Hey douchebag!” Raph called out, drawing their attention. “You dropped this.”

            Raph swung the strangers quarterstaff like a bat, striking them in the face so hard he thought he heard a crack. The stranger fell to the ground next to Leo, who was now pulling himself back into focus.

            “Thanks for the save, Raph.” Leo groaned, holding his bruised head in his hands.

            “Nah don’t mention it, I’ll save you the embarrassment next time and stop the next chick from beating your ass a little faster.”

            Leo rolled his eyes and got up onto his feet, Mikey walking over to join him and Raph as they approached the kraang cargo container. Donnie had woken up as well, his head still spinning as he stumbled towards the group. Once all together, Leo opened the container to reveal what was inside.

            “It looks like…mutagen? In some sort of incubation chamber that uses heat to keep it stable and maintain its molecular alteration properties.” Donnie rolled out in his sometimes incomprehensible technojargon. Observing the massive mechanical vat in front of them.

            “So…it’s a kraang microwave for mutagen? Ha! Score- OW!” Raph struck Mikey in the back of the head the moment he heard him say microwave.

            As the two then began to bicker, Donnie plugged his PDA into one of the vats control panels and began digging through encrypted kraang files. The further he dug, the more concerned his face grew. Eventually, he called Leo over to see what he’d found.

            “It looks like the kraang have been tinkering with forced mutations. Trying to create some sort of super mutant weapon to fuse with themselves. Apparently, they’ve been testing this stuff on all sorts of animals. Dogs, lizards, birds, even…” Donnie paused. Looking back over his shoulder towards the stranger who still lay sprawled on the floor. Leo’s eyes narrowed as he read the data on the PDA before finishing Donnie’s point for him.            

“Turtles.”

Interested In Your Own Commission?

[bl00d-in-the-wat3r]

The Reunion

Location: Kiskadden Kitchen

Time: 12:35pm

@camkiskadden

“Not every number you meet is gonna leave ya. Some of us mugs will stick taya like glue, ‘slong as I’m kickin’ ya got a Tainted in your corner. Sorry little bird butchu won’t ever be alone,” Gideon reached over to place a heavy hand on his shoulder, “And when the inevitable do happen, when someone goes- for better or for worse- I’ll still be here. Always.”

Fourteen years was a long time and even at his age he recognized the length. But he knew what to expect when he set foot onto the Kiskadden lot, for nothing would change. Back then, he found their odd sort of quirk amusing, the family thinking they could freeze the march of time in its place. Young Cam, with enough energy to feed a god desperately tried to cram a day into a minute while his parents wished to preserve the strength of a bloodline crafted for centuries. Even now it was endearing. When Gideon was met with a picture from a memory he closed his eyes and walked the same path he had taken many years before, feeling the imprint of his footprints beneath his feet.

A hand slid over the kitchen counter, the sounds of long lost laughter returning with a sigh. He made himself at home, greeting the dishes and the cupboard with a familiar wave. Setting out a feast fit for a tired man he piled a plate high, knowing that his words alone were never enough and hoping that someone else’s food would get the job done. While putting the plate into the microwave- and struggling to figure out how it worked- he pondered how he could possibly help Cam process the news he just broke to him, knowing full well that the man hadn’t allowed himself to mourn. But the most striking thought was that he wasn’t exactly the poster child for properly dealing with traumatic events, he immediately went and made a deal with a demon. He supposed that’s where they would start, to make sure that Cam didn’t sign his soul away.

The beep of the microwave spooked him and he turned to it with the face of a man who had been personally scorned. A finger pointed angrily at the machine he growled, “Stop your spittin’- I said stop!” The rustle of clothes behind him had him turning on his heels with a lopsided smile, “Oof, take-a-look at father time over there! You got old CeeCee, told ya time would catch up taya one day.” There was no animosity in his voice, the pitch jumping up all light and airy as a happy hum escaped his lips and he held open his arms. Though, he wasn’t expecting much, he left it up to Cam to decide whether or not to seek his comfort- keeping his hope that he would locked tight to himself. “Ya know, I came here ta knock ya on the jaw- go off the track but man I can’t clip ya wings. What’s makin’ trouble for my little bird, huh? What’s got ya lookin’ like the big one came early?”

[donutloverxo]

Steeb having a HUGE temper and u being the only one who can calm him down !!!!!!

Angry Steeb

*gif is not mine* This is a bit short hope that's okay🤭🤭 this blog is 18+ do not read or interact/follow if you are a minor please 🙏🙏 Warnings - daddy kink, maybe a bit of ddlg, Steve's not that angry I just can't imagine Steve being angry to his doll lol I hope you still like it. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You yelped, the pillow you were clutching against your chest almost fell out of your hold, "Shouldn't be watching conjuring so late at night..." you mumbled to yourself.

What else were you supposed to do when your daddy left you all by yourself the whole day?

You looked back from the sofa, to see Steve angrily heat up his food in the kitchen.

It was as if he felt your eyes on him, he turned to look back at you, quirking a brow as if he asked you to speak.

"A thank you would've been nice," you huffed more to yourself but his super soldier hearing picked it up.

"Thank you?"

"For making dinner!" You yelled as the microwave beeping alerted Steve to take out the Tupperware.

He ignored it as he ran his hands through his golden hair, messing it up just a little, he sighed about to go to you but then his stomach growled. Reminding him just how hungry he was. How having to eat every two hours because of his fast metabolism often made food a chore rather than something he can enjoy for the sake of it.

He plopped down beside you with a tub of pasta, shoving a bit in his face, his heart clenching a bit when you moved away from him, focusing on your scary movie and ignoring him.

"I'm sorry, doll. I just had a hard day..."

You were going to give him the silence treatment--which you knew he absolutely hated. He would much rather have you yell at him or even throw your stuffies at him then have you not talking to him. But he had been super mean to you!

Every evening when Steve got back from work you'd run to him and he'd catch you to give you a hug and the a deep kiss. It was your ritual. But this evening when you ran to him, and clung to his body because he was at work all day, despite it being a Saturday, you had missed him terribly.

And he...

...he couldn't wait to get away from you. He set you down without properly returning your hug and then going to the bathroom to shower without saying a single word to you.

His showers usually only lasted ten minutes, unless he was showering with you of course, but today he spent almost an hour in there.

But the exhaustion in his voice, and your endless love for him made you pity him so you looked at him, "I understand, but it doesn't mean you can take it out on me..."

"I know, it's just, shit..." He cursed, running a hand through his hair again.

Now you knew something was wrong. Steve never cursed.

"Stevie," you finally gave in, "Come here," you signalled to your lap.

He looked a bit hesitant at first but then he gave in, putting the tub of your delicious cooking on aside before laying his head on your lap. He hummed as your nails scraped his scalp, your fingers combing through his hair as your touch soothed him.

"What's got my daddy so blue?" You wanted to know.

"Sometimes I forget... that I'm a man out of time. That's all I'll ever be. There are so many things I still don't understand, even after all these years. Working with Tony... he certainly doesn't help."

You hummed as you listened to him vent his heart out to you. You will have to have a chat with Tony soon and warn him to be kinder to your daddy. You'll prepare a nice long lecture to give him at work tomorrow. But today, your daddy needed your sympathy.

"I'm sorry, doll. You know you mean the world to me. I don't know what I'd do without you," he nuzzled your bare thighs, the prickly little hair on his face stubbing just a little.

"I do know. I'm also sorry, daddy. I should give you a few moments before I go all crazy on you. I just get excited to see you is all," you looked into the grey specks in the blue of his eyes.

"I love it when you're excited to see me, doll. Makes me feel needed."

You spend the rest of the evening cuddling, convincing daddy to be the little spoon just this one time. He liked showing off his strength and just how big he was to you so it was a bit hard but you finally managed to do it and he fell asleep in your arms.

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[aceofspadegrass]

It's Raining

Characters: Aguni Morizono, Hatter, Tatta Koudai, Arisu Ryohei, Last Boss, Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro

Genre: Fluff. Just a thunderstorm, some vibes, and uh.... Monopoly. Briefly.

1.6k words

Man, writing with absolute zero idea of where I was going with it is.... interesting. My only thought was rainstorm, and here's what happened.

Rain pattered against the window, Aguni watching the raindrops fall down the glass with a cup of steaming hot coffee in hand. Takeru was still in bed, sleeping off the spaghetti and red wine they shared last night, half a cookie hanging out of his mouth. Aguni takes a long, slow sip of his coffee, making sure to blow on it beforehand. He didn’t need to burn his mouth after all. He grunts lightly, going over today’s schedule over his head. The rain looked bad, so he couldn’t go out today, nor could anybody else. It might be bad enough for a power outage, Aguni notes internally.

He heads outside and through the halls. The rain was loud even here, but the sound of yelling was louder, cheers and screams coming from Arisu’s room. Aguni peeks inside just to see what was up, after knocking on the door to notify he was coming inside. He blinks as he stares at Niragi, Tatta, and Arisu all sitting in the dark in front of the television, playing some racing game, Arisu firmly in first place with Niragi and Tatta fighting for second just behind him. Niragi and Arisu were more absorbed in the game, Niragi the main source of all the yelling, using Arisu’s blanketed head as an arm rest, the tallest out of all of them sitting on the barren bed while the other two took space on the floor. Tatta seemed less focused at least, although he doesn’t stop playing even as he greets Aguni.

“ Hi! Did you need something?”

“ Uh… just checking up. It’s raining pretty badly. Just be aware there may be a power outage if it gets worse.”

Tatta nods, Niragi grumbling angrily as Tatta hits him with a red shell in the game. “ Okay!” Tatta chirps, Aguni nodding and shutting the door just as Arisu wins the race with an excited cheer, Niragi griping loudly and falling backwards on the bed. Aguni continues down the hall and goes to check up on Chishiya to tell him about the possible outage.

But he couldn’t, as Chishiya was still sleeping, curled up in his chair and a blanket thrown over him, likely from Tatta or Arisu actually caring. Aguni leaves him alone, shutting the door. Chishiya was smart enough to infer on his own when he wakes up. He continues through the house, occasionally taking a sip of coffee as he searches for the last member of the household.

Aguni knocks on Last Boss’ door, and receives absolutely zero response, but Aguni opens anyways. Last Boss was sitting there on the ground with his computer, looking up at Aguni blankly in the dark.

“ Hey. It’s raining pretty badly so be warned.” Aguni tells him, and looks at the ground, sighing at the mess. “ And clean up your room eventually, okay?” He looks back at Last Boss, who says absolutely nothing, continuing to stare blankly at him. Aguni stares back until Last Boss breaks eye contact, going back to typing on his computer without a hint of giving a fuck. He shut the door and makes his way down to the kitchen, drinking more coffee and listening to the rain patter against the windows louder than before. He settles himself with heating up some leftovers, watching the plate spin in the microwave as he sips at his coffee.

The microwave beeps, seconds before Aguni hears thunder pounding outside. Several, in fact. It nearly shakes the house with how loud it was, and Aguni swears he can hear Niragi cursing in Arisu’s room. Aguni pulls out his leftovers and takes a seat at the dining table, just as the lights begin to flicker. Aguni takes a long, slow sip of coffee and sets down his mug, poking at a piece of fish as the lights finally die on him.

Not long after, Aguni hears footsteps, and he look up through the dark as three figures approach, Niragi loudly grumbling and heading straight for the cabinets to look for a torch. Tatta and Arisu both stand there as Niragi rustles through the drawers, Aguni eating silently as Niragi slams open and close drawers. Arisu still had the blanket over his head, which he had wrapped around him so it was basically just a blanket with a face and legs.

“ Where’s the fucking flashlight-“ Niragi grumbles, even opening the medicine cabinet. It is followed by both Arisu and Tatta shrugging and offering nothing useful, Niragi continuing to search and yielding nothing. Aguni gets up only when Niragi tries the same drawer in the past five minutes, getting up and opening the fridge, which also lost its power. He digs inside, Niragi pausing to watch Aguni in pure and utter confusion as Aguni pulls out a flashlight and sets it on the counter by Niragi, shutting the fridge and going back to the table to continue eating. “ Wh-“ Niragi stammers, looking between the flashlight and the fridge. “ Why the hell was it in the fridge-“

Aguni wished he had a sane answer. But nothing was sane about the fridgelight. He finished his coffee and sets the mug down, looking to Niragi. “ Takeru thought it’d be funny.” He explains, Niragi looking at Aguni, eyes furrowed a little and frowning.

“ Why the fuck would-“ Niragi cuts himself off, picking up the flashlight and turning it on, nearly blinding Tatta. “ Whatever. This’ll do. What, do we not have a backup generator?”

“ We used to, but rats got to the wires so we were waiting on someone to come fix it!” Tatta explains, covering his eyes with his hand as Niragi turns the bright beam at his face.

“ Aren’t you a mechanic?”

“ For cars, mostly! Also I tried, but turns out the rats got a lot of the wires all messed up. And uhhhhh….. I might have forgotten to go buy new wires. Or a new generator.”

“ You’re useless.” Niragi mutters, Tatta frowning a little.

“ Rude…. But it’ll be fine until the storm passes by, right?” Tatta looks to Aguni for confirmation, Aguni giving him a brief nod. Tatta smiles, looking back at Niragi. “ See?” “ Fine. Would’ve been nice to have electricity. I’m gonna grab candles. It’s dark as shit in here.” Niragi grumbles, and he stalks away with the flashlight, Arisu and Tatta following behind to help. Aguni stays at the table to finish his meal, existing in his own time.

A few minutes later Niragi comes back and slaps a candle on the table in front of him, already lit. “ There. Have fun with your romantic dinner for one.” Niragi quips, then quickly walks away, Aguni thanking him under his breath and taking another bite of food.

Takeru comes outside as Aguni dumps his trash, holding his phone as a flashlight, heading straight for Aguni and draping himself over the man’s back.

“ Man, it’s so loud….. You doing okay?” Takeru mumbles into Aguni’s shoulder, apparently still very tired, Aguni nodding. Takeru hums, the two standing there in the candlelit kitchen as the rain battered against the house for a while. Takeru only lets go when Aguni starts to move away, arms dropping to the side as Aguni sits down at the table again, his face illuminated by the small faint candlelight. Takeru opens the lightless fridge, the sound of things moving around barely discernible from the loud patter. He pulls out something and shuts the door, coming over to sit across Aguni. In his hand seemed to be a glass bottle, Takeru twisting off the top and taking a sip.

Aguni watches him drink for a while, Takeru draining at least half of the bottle in one go before letting off, satisfyingly breathing out and wiping his mouth with the back off his hand. The house shakes as thunder rumbles outside, Takeru smiling and yawning. “ It’s rough outside, eh? I woke up to that first one but didn’t feel like getting out of bed.” Aguni grunts in response, Hatter nodding to himself. “ Yes, yes. Ah, is the generator still not working?” Aguni shakes his head, explaining the rat situation, Hatter slowly nodding. He finishes the rest of the bottle, letting it hit the table with a decent thunk, sighing and leaning back. “ No reason to sit around and do nothing. Wanna play Monopoly with the kids?”

“ And have to wrestle Chishiya away from stabbing Niragi in the knees again with a toothpick?”

Takeru only shrugs, getting up and walking away. “ What can go wrong this time? Monopoly night! Come on everyone!”

Aguni sighs, getting up and heading over to grab the Monopoly board. He wasn’t paying for the damages.

[AN HOUR LATER….]

Aguni keeps a hold of Niragi’s torso as he attempts (and fails) to reach Tatta, who was hiding behind the blanket blob that was Arisu, who somehow acquired everyone’s blanket in the timeframe he’s been by the board, Chishiya leaning against said blob and smirking at Niragi.

“ I’m gonna tear your fucking face off, you fucking whale shark!”

“ I’m sorry! It’s just a railroad!”

Aguni glances at Takeru, who just smiles and watches, with eyes that were void of any thought in his head. He wasn’t even feeling the slightest bit worried, was he. Aguni sighs, and forcefully pulls Niragi up and lifts him over his shoulder, Niragi trying (and still failing) to get free and attack Tatta.

Aguni much rather would have just sat around and do nothing. Maybe lay in bed with Takeru and talk about life and such.

But no, instead he gets this today, Niragi finally giving up as Aguni dumps him in the time out corner and walks away back to the scene, only to see Tatta having to pay the last of his money to a smug Chishiya. “ Aww, I’m bankrupt.”

“ Should’ve thought about that before having money.” Thunder clapped just as he finished that, Tatta yelping.

“ Ooh, that was a good one!” Takeru chirps, “ Real suspenseful!”

“ Thanks, it wasn’t my intention….. Or was it.”

[und3rwat3r-a5tr0naut]

Can you do UT!Sans reacting to his S/O coming home from their job as a barista after dealing with Karens all day and one of the Karens threw their coffee at them..?

He knows your home when he hears is the aggravated scream and the sound of keys hitting the floor. “Babe?” He peeks around the corner. You were a mess. Your uniform was crumpled, a large coffee stain on your chest, and your hair was going in every direction imaginable. You let out an angry sob and sink to the floor, face growing redder by the second.

 “Woah, buddy.” He’s next to you in an instant, kicking your keys out of the way to sit beside you. “Has it bean a bad day for you?” Despite the joke, his tone is soft and comforting, only making the tears pour from your eyes even more. “I’m so sick of people, Sans!” You shout into your hands. “So it was a bad day then?” He pulls you against his side and you go slack. “Yeah...” He hums, rubbing your back slightly. “Well, you’re home now.” He says. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower, put on some pajamas or something and you can tell me all about it. I’ll even put on a movie, pop some popcorn. You know, the works.” You finally pull your face from your hands and he gets a look look at your tear-stained, snot-covered face. “You actually doing things? I don’t believe it.” You joked, wiping your nose on your sleeve. “Hey, it’s snot a problem for me. I’ll do anything for the one person I like a latte.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes and punching his arm lightly. “Oh my gosh, stop. Fine. I’ll go change.” You get up, heading into the bathroom to change. Sans watches you walk away for a second before teleporting into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of popcorn, and tossing it in the microwave. The perfect snack for someone lazy like himself. He grabs one of the bigger bowls you both have and dumps the freshly popped popcorn into it. Nice.

By the time you come out of the bathroom, freshly showered and in your favorite comfy clothes, he’s already on the couch, popcorn bowl in his lap. “There you are.” He says, patting the spot next to him on the sofa. “Come join me.” You plop down next to him, snuggling into his side. “Gladly.” You sigh. He wraps an arm around you and pushes the popcorn bowl closer to you. “So, was it another Karen?” You shove a hand in the popcorn bowl and bring the popcorn to your mouth. 

“Yes! It was like friggin’ Karen central! ‘Oh, I asked for soy, not almond. I WANT A REFUND’. Like, newsflash, you actually didn’t even clarify and got huffy with me when I asked, so I had to guess! ARGH-” You angrily shove popcorn in your mouth. “And then ANOTHER woman comes in asking for a MILKSHAKE! We don’t even serve milkshakes! So I ask her if she wants a coffee, she doesn’t want coffee she wants a milkshake- So of course the manager comes over and the lady agrees to take a mocha frappe, right?” You’re motioning with your hands as you talk, making him smile. “And when it doesn’t taste like a milkshake, she throws it at me- I just-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath. “I guess I’m just glad to be home now....”

He plants a kiss on your temple and leans his head against yours. “Well, it’s all over now. Those Karens, Lindas, Susans...whatever, can’t bother you now.” He jokes, eating a handful of popcorn himself. He uses his magic to gently place a blanket around both of you as he picks up the remote. “How about we watch stupid rom-coms until we fall asleep?” You give him a small smile. “That sounds nice.” 

[enigma-im]

Sucker Punched pt.2

Rating:Explicit Relationship: Alien X Female!Human Warning: Dirty talk, strong language, Alien/human relationship, alien sex

Word Count:4055

Pt. 1

--------------------------------

We soon part ways as our responsibilities drive us. He to fuck about doing whatever it is he does outside of groping me, I to finish up work before heading back to my place. My small one-bedroom, two-room home. Bigger than most, having the perk of being faculty, but smaller than anything earth could have given me. The large living room is nice to divide the space between the front door and where I sleep. I truly feel for the people who don't have that luxury. It feels too unsafe to be comfortable.

I fiddle about with a quick shower and a change of clothes, completely forgetting about Kurt for the time. It's not till I hear a rather intimidating knock at the door so I remember our plans. Cursing to myself I throw on a shirt before heading into the living room.

He pounds on the door again," For fuck sakes, hold on." I angrily right my clothes, untucking my hair, before grabbing the handle. I thrust the door open, my hair billowing in the breeze. I glare out at the tall buff alien who fills my doorway-perhaps the hallway as well. His teeth are poking through his small smirk, giving him a dorky charm. Kurt eyes me from head to toe, not hiding his appreciations though I lack effort in my outfit.

"Beautiful as ever, though I know you never disappoint," he raises a brow. It's still strange to hear him speak English, though its through a translator. I find I miss the rough tone of his normal language, it never failing to send chills down my spine. Then again, who isn't a sucker for a deep voice?

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I scoff.

"I find the crimson hue of your cheeks to be something, like an incentive really," he tilts forward. The alien towers over me like no other, feeling like he is boxing me in with just his height. I find myself leaning towards him despite his natural intimidation.

"If I knew you were this much of a flirt I would have forgone getting our translators fixed."

"Oh, prefer my other attempts of getting into your pants better?"

"So confident that you could get into my pants? A flirt and cocky, how unattractive."

"the lies you spill from your mouth almost mask the arousal that practically oozes from you when I'm around," he quickly grasps the doorframe as he leans in close," Admit it, love, you want me bad." his proximity short-circuits my brain for a moment, just long enough for him to chuckle. I can smell his musk, it muddling my brain as he presses a gentle, loud kiss to my cheek. I can't help but sigh in defeat, the bastard has me there.

I take a step back from him, his glare following me as I turn towards the kitchen. I stop at the fridge, glancing over at the frowning Kurt still perched at the door.

"Well, come in. I rather not have my coworkers question while a nearly 7ft alien is guarding my doorway," I grin. He huffs, dropping his head with a shake before coming over. He closes the door behind himself, walking towards the couch to plop down. I look through the fridge for literally anything to eat. Never entertaining guests before now seems to have hindered my dinner plans.

I settle on some bullshit microwave dinners, almost mortified in having to do so. While they 'cook' I lean against the counter to watch Kurt. For a moment he looks around the space, not really reacting to anything. Once he grew bored he turns to me. He cocks a brow in question.

"I believe I was promised some wooing," I break the silence.

"Was what I said at the door not enough," he answers. I scoff at his response, turning back to the meals. Perhaps he was all talk and no action. How disappointing, I expected a lot more from him. I won't lie and say he hasn't grown on me, like a tumor. Being a constant thorn in my side has proven fruitful in his quest for my affection, but if he intends to be a stick in the mud then I have to quarrels tossing him to the side.

I barely hear him when he sneaks up behind me, cupping my hips as his groin meets my back. I bite my cheek to not respond, way too curious to see where this is going. I feel his breath on my neck, raising my hairs as he exhales near my ear.

"Since the day we met, I have not stopped thinking about you. You have invaded everything I do. When I sleep, I see your face. I dream of your curves against mine, feel your skin under my lips. Every night I have felt your sweet caress to my cock, on the verge of climax just as I wake. I think I can escape you in my wake but my thoughts only flow for you. I can only ponder how you would taste. Would you be sweet like I imagine, would you cum like how I picture," he licks just behind my ear," are these words good enough for you? I am not a romantic man, but you bring me to my knees and make me wanna do things I never even considered before."

I stutter on a breath, gnawing on my cheek," l-like what?" He grinds into me, pressing his hardening cock against my lower back. He thrills me more as he reaches under my shirt to palm my stomach. I can't bring myself to move, barely making a sound as he licks and nibble. Kurt teases my neck with his tusk before pressing the blunt tips to my skin, dimpling the area enough to wretch a gasp from me.

"I can smell your cunt," he purrs as his hands trail up. His fingertips barely touch my bra when I choke on a inhale. The anticipation of having his large palms on me almost takes my breath away. He chuckles huskily in my ear, rubbing his cheek to mine as he leans over to watch himself. He slowly slides his fingers under my cups, teasing the skin as he engulfs my breast. I'm sure he can feel my heart beating fast against my ribs, thumping loudly near his fingers. He hums as he palms and squeezes me. I sigh, falling against him. My head rests on his shoulder, tilting for his lingering kisses.

We both startle as the microwave beeps. I stand straight, suddenly ripped from the haze of building tension. He freezes as I do, his hands slowly trailing down as he worries about my next reaction. I look up at the meals resting in the finished device. I then look down at my clenched hands, finally noticing the throbbing between my legs and the hardon pressed to my back. I chew my lip in thought, really thinking hard on saying 'forget dinner'.

Before I can overthink this I tear his hands from my shirt and twist in his hold. I look up at his startled face, nearly laughing at his wide-eyed expression. I cast a glance at the tent in his pants, grinning as I meet his eyes. Quickly I leap and grab his horn, jerking him closer to my level with a Cheshire grin.

"Are you going to ravish me like I deserve, I refuse to waste my time with unworthy men," I ask near his lips. He looks a bit dazed as he stares down at my mouth.

"Yes," he answers.

"I demand you take me to my room before I change my mind then. I expect nothing but the best, understood?"

His lips part as he meets my eyes with wonder," Yes, ma'am." Fast as lightning he scoops me up in his strong arms and whisks me away to the bedroom, meals left forgotten.

Kurt attacks my lips while maneuvering in the dark. His hands on my thighs are scorching, also helpful in my grinding against his stomach. I fist his hair, twisting his head to delve my tongue into his mouth. His groans muddle my brain, throwing my thoughts in disarray.

I'm startled when he tilts forward. I panic, grabbing his shoulder tightly as my back suddenly meets the bed. His chuckle against my neck annoys me, taking me away from the lust riddled thinking I was drowning in before. As his tongue slathers up my neck I grab his horn, dragging him up.

"Yes," he asks displeased," do I need to woo you with more words, or am I free to satisfy my curiosity?"

I snort," Curiosity?" His fangs poke through his smile, a purr rolling out between his lips.

"I'm quite interested in seeing if you match the women of my kind," he lowers down to press a teasing kiss to my jaw.

"How about we don't talk about other women while in bed," I pull him back again. His cocky grin drops to another annoyed grimace.

"We can just not talk at all, that seems to be a safe bet," he suggests, wiggling his horn out of my hold. His lips press just above my shirt collar, his teeth dimpling my skin as he nibbles. The tips of his fingers tease around the end of my shirt, trailing his claw along the slightly revealed flesh.

I can hardly think of a snarky response, completely invested in his attentions. His tongue on my neck and his hands palming my hips. My nails dig into his shoulders, scratching down to his elbows.

"Ku-," I'm interrupted by a bell. We both pause in confusion till a loud knocking follows. I sigh, sitting up. Kurt quickly grabs me, keeping me where I am.

"No, ignore it," he growls. He quiets my protests by pulling my hips into his, grinding his hard-on against me. A thrill shoots up my spine, muddling any thoughts of the door.

"Hello," I faintly hear a voice call from outside the room. I freeze again, grabbing at Kurt. He tries to bring my attention back to him, biting at my shoulder.

"Just real quick," I smile apologetically. He answers with a growl, bucking his hips more. Fed up I grab his horn and drag him away. "real quick," I scold. He huffs then sighs before rolling off.

I hop out of bed, a wiggle in my step. I share in Kurt's frustrations, stomping towards the door with frustration. I rip open the door, already fed up with the upcoming conversation.

"Hello," the slim techie from the other day answers. His appearance at my door is startling enough to erase my ire.

"Hey," I respond confused," What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. The update was sent out yesterday and I was hoping to get input on it," he answers.

"Works well enough, I haven't had any issues with it. I have to agree with you though, Kurt has a 'way' with words," I chuckle.

He laughs as well," He was a bit too vulgar for my taste. It brought on a very awkward situation."

As we talk I faintly hear steps behind me. My suspicions are verified when the techie tenses up. He looks over my shoulder, giving an uncomfortable smile.

"Seeso," Kurt growls.

"Ker'chak," Techie answers," How is your translator h-holding up?"

"Good," Kurt sneers," feel free to leave now."

"Kurt," I scold," chill out." Kurt continues sneering at the poor lad, not doing anything to hold back his anger at the man's presence.

"Alright then," Kurt grabs my hips, pulling me to his chest," Seeso I wish to get back to wooing my woman and you standing here is preventing that so I say nicely, piss off." before either one of us can answer Kurt slams the door shut and lifts me off my feet.

"That was rude as hell, you couldn't wait, like, five minutes," I slap his chest.

"I am extremely hard right now so excuse me for being a little impatient," he chuffs. I snort, stretching up to bite his neck. I tighten till he hisses.

"Good things come to those who wait," I press a kiss to my teeth marks.

He groans," And you can't get what you don't take."

Kurt tosses me onto the bed, quickly climbing over me. He doesn't take his time, ripping my shirt off swiftly to lather attention on my breast. His sharp tusk pricks my skin as he sucks on a nipple. I pet his hair back from his face, watching him. His eyes open to meet mine, growling as his swirls his tongue.

"You are quite handsome, I'll admit," I hum. His sudden purr startles me, along with the pinching of his claws on my thighs.

"Well thank you," he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to my chest.

I chuckle at his excitement, fisting his hair before pushing him down my body. He resists a bit to press his lips down a line of my stomach. He crawls off the bed and onto his knee. As he reaches my pants he nuzzles his cheek to my hips. His purrs increase, his hands massaging my thighs.

"Fuck," I groan," stop, it's too cute."

"Cute," he scoffs," No one has ever accused me of being cute." he unbuttons my pants, tugging them down my legs.

"Well you are, so get used to that," I tease. He hums in thought, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"As long as you are the only one saying it then I guess its fine," he mumbles. Before I can tease some more he tugs off my underwear. "Speaking of cute," he smirks. The smug smile makes me roll my eyes, biting off a chuckle.

"Yea, yea," I scoot out of his hold," Get on your back."

"Oh my back," he quirks a brow," now why should I do that?"

"Because I said so," I shrug. From his place on the floor, he rests his chin on the bed, grinning that mischievous smile.

"Since when did you become the boss," he says. I regard him with a teasing smirk. I crawl towards him, grabbing his horn to draw him back.

"Since I decked you in the face, now get on the bed big boy," I press a swift kiss to his lips," I'll make it worth your while."

He hums," When you put it like that." Kurt crawls onto the bed, resting on his back with his hands behind his head. He smirks down at me, tilting his head. "Now what, my sexy female?" I don't answer, instead of crawling up his body. I sit on his upper chest, looking down at him between my knees. I pet at his face as he looks from me to my crotch then back.

"this my prize for following orders? Feels more like a prize for you," he looks back at my crotch, licking his lips despite his words. I pet his bottom lip, pressing my thumb into his mouth. He wastes no time sucking on it.

"What? Don't want my cute pussy on your cute face," I quirk a brow. He nibbles on my thumb before pushing it out of his mouth. He presses one kiss to it then grabs my thighs.

"Well when you put it like that," he chuckles. I yelp when he quickly drags me over his face. Wasting no time delving between my folds with his tongue. At his first taste, he groans loudly, his hips bucking behind me.

"I'll take it you’re a fan," I huff, petting his head.

"I will dine on you every night as long as you stay wet just for me," he growls, licking another stripe. His fingers dig into my skin, showing off his enjoyment. As he laps at me I can't help but grind into him, biting back groans and cries of pleasure. His teeth poking at the cleft of my thighs adds a certain thrill to all this. His alien-ness becoming extremely apparent now. I look down at him between my legs, his eyes closed in pure enjoyment.

I find myself leaning back, holding onto his raised knees. I watch him, enraptured at his monstrous appearance. Moans leave me lips, my insides burning only for him.

"Kurt," I groan," you look so sexy like this." his eyes creak open a moment.

"You should speak for yourself," he hums. My hips grind on his mouth, a cry ripping from my throat.

"I'm close," I lean back up. I grab onto his horns, pulling him into my thrusts. His hands slide from my thighs to my ass, guiding my grinds. As his fingers knead my skin I burst. I shout, throwing my head back as I yell into the room. He purrs under me, lapping up every drop as I cum for him.

I nearly fall into the wall, barely catching myself on my hand. I pant, resting my head onto the cold wall. Catching my breath I look down at Kurt, smiling at his wide grin.

"You look so happy," I mumble. He kisses my mound.

"Of course," he answers. He adjusts me down his chest, sitting up to hold me close. He rubs my back, kissing my lips.

Once I come back to myself I react to his attention. I pull him into a strong kiss, delving my tongue into his mouth as I pull on his hair. His cock pokes excessively against my ass.

"Your turn," I grin. He hums before I push him back onto the bed. I crawl between his legs, grabbing at his pants. The anticipation builds as my curiosity peaks. What could he look like?

At my hesitation, he speaks," You good?" I bite my lip. Instead of answering I tug his pants down. His cock immediately slaps back against his stomach, then bobbing just over it.

His cock is fairly thick, long but his girth is more attention-grabbing. Along his shaft are nubs that really pique my interest. I grab him, huffing at his growl. I thumb the numbs, noticing their firmness. I slide up him, pinching at his spear-like tip.

"Interesting," I mumble to myself.

Kurt's head pops up," What?" his nerves revealed in his tone. I sit down on my stomach between his legs, pumping his cock a few times as I look up at him.

"Don't worry, it's a good interesting. You are fucking lovely," I kiss his shaft. He twitches in my hold, his head falling back as he purrs again. "You are all around the sexiest man I have ever been with," I smile. He groans again, bucking into my hand. I adore his reactions oh so much.

Too eager I wrap my lips around him, sucking on his tip as I jerk him off. His grunts fuel me, sending jolts of pleasure to my crotch. His taste is unlike human men, having a sweetness to it that I wasn't expecting. I choke him down into my mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat. I bob, sucking on his cock with great interest. His noises grow in frequency, making me gain tempo.

As his hips begin to buck into me he lifts me from his cock. "Stop," he groans," stop." I rest my head on his thigh, watching him catch his breath. I trace a vein on his hip, grinning like a fool.

"Did ya like it," I ask. He tilts his head to look at me.

"Don't ask stupid questions and get on my lap," he pants. Instead of straddling him, I crawl up him, lying beside him on my back. He turns towards me confused.

"I want you to be on top," I shrug. He rolls his eyes, turning to crawl on top of me.

"I figured you would want to be on top," he leans down to trail kisses along my neck. I comb my fingers through his hair, my other hand reaching between us.

"Now why would you think that," I grab his girth, jerking him a bit. He doesn't answer, growling with his teeth bared. "Now, enough talking," I turn towards his ear, whispering," I want you inside me." he hisses, his tip prodding between my folds.

He presses in slowly, both of us feeling every thrilling inch. Our sigh of satisfaction when he settles to the hilt is echoing. We give each other a second, not wanting the moment to end so soon.

"Fuck," he pants," you are more perfect than I dreamed." he rolls his hips for emphasis. I hug him close.

"Yea," I huff," you too."

He chuckles," may I ravage you now?"

"Is that what you guys are calling it these days," I snort.

"shut up," he growls before pulling back and bucking forward. I choke on a gasp as he fills me so quickly. He repeats, thrusting hard and fast. His cock is as fulfilling as I hoped, his nubs rubbing splendidly against my walls. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body ever so close. My nails dig into his hard skin, almost piercing it.

He suddenly stills, his breath stuttering. "Maybe you shouldn't have sucked my dick," he laughs.

"Yea," I snort," you promised me a ravaging. we barely even started and you're ready to end it."

"Shut up," he pulls out, unwrapping my arms from around him. I watch him confused, almost disappointed. He slithers down my body between my legs where he presses his two fingers inside me. I sigh, straying off my future disappointment as he begins fingering me.

"stalling, big boy," I laugh. He doesn't answer, leaning down to suck my clit as his fingers glide in and out. His claws rake gently along my walls, tingling me with satisfaction. He rumbles with a purr, nibbling on my clit.

"K-Kurt," I grab his horn," I don't wanna cum on your face again." he withdraws his fingers, licking them clean before crawling back up. I grab his face as he nears, ready to tease him. He beats me to it, cupping his hand over my mouth.

"I underestimated you temptress," he nuzzles my cheek," now let's try this again." he thrusts in again with a strained groan. He bucks quickly, reaching down to rub at my clit to finish me off. The startling amount of pleasure makes me reach out and pull him close.

"Kurt, fuck," I cry out," I take it back, you are doing great." he curls on his next thrust, laughing as he does.

"yea, I'm close too," he kisses my cheek.

We both cry into each other, our hot breaths ghosting over the other's skin. I fall first, unsurprisingly. I clench him everywhere. Locking down on his cock, pulling him close with my arms. I shout out his name, rolling into a cry as he pulls out all of my pleasure.

He falls soon after, bucking wildly before stilling. Something hot leaks inside, pulsing with him. It paints my insides as his whole body tenses then relaxes.

"Bless the heavens," he captures my lips fiercely," and my the heavens bless you."

"That sounds like a great compliment," I kiss him back.

"Highest one I can think of right now," he laughs. He soon pulls out, the feeling of him spilling from inside me makes me shiver. He then rolls over, pulling me along. I rest on his chest, hooking a leg over his hips. He grabs my thigh, petting along it as we settle.

"so," he draws out. I look at him from the corner of my eye.

"so," I answer similarly to him.

"am I a keeper," he cocks a brow.

I hum," not sure yet. You still have to make me breakfast in the morning."

"damn," he looks to the ceiling," I'm a shit cook."

"Shame," I shrug," guess I will have to teach you another thing then."

"Another thing?"

"Don't worry about it," I tease. He turns in my hold, facing me dead on.

"Did you not like how I ravaged you," he asks. I shrug again. He answers with a growl, rolling us so I straddle his lap. He pets along my thighs. "I guess you will have to show me how it's done then," he teases. I lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I guess I will."

-----------------------------------------

Finally, Jesus! It took me forever to write this.

Pt. 1

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[imnotwolverine]

Stay

Henry Cavill x reader one-shot

Disclaimer: NSFW, Angsty nightmarish smut, injury by boiling water, bodily fluids, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.414

Author’s note: I’ve written this fic after a fic request I received from the lovely @wednesdaybraids : “Can I make a fic request, for Henry? Female has many nightmares about Henry leaving for work and ultimately leaving her. One night her nightmares wake Henry, who tries to soothe her and give her "proper" reminder that he's not going anywhere, that he won't return from. Listening to 5 Finger Death Punch's Walk Away, has me in an angsty mood.”

--

‘Please stay.’ You trembled, your voice coarse as you listened to the deafening silence at the other side of the phone line. Was he even there? 

‘H-Henry?’ 

*KGGGGG - beep beep beep*

Did he just..did he just hang up on you? You blinked slowly, eyes burning with anxiety as you removed the phone from your ear, the screen indeed showing that the call had ended. One of many calls. 

Your thumb switched the device back to the main screen, a picture of a shared holiday with him in the background. You, him, laughing like there wasn’t a worry in the world. But there was a worry in the world now. Why wasn’t he answering? Was something wrong? Did something happen? Did YOU do something wrong? Hmmm.. not willing yourself to give in to your anxious, jittery heart, you moved through your small studio apartment to make yourself some tea. 

If anything could calm you when he wasn’t around, it was a nice cuppa cuppa. Keeping your phone close in hand in case he’d manage to call back - which was unlikely as he was super busy with wrapping up filming for his new movie - you flicked on the electric water kettle. 

*Click* 

Strange. Did it just..turn off by itself? Flicking down the little plastic lever again it did indeed shoot back after a second or so. Ugh..darned thing! Pushing your thumb on the lever to keeping it down, you decided to just stay like that until it came to a boil - if electronics failed, manual labour had to step in. 

Talking about electronics. You looked back at your lit up phone screen, your other hand semi-automatically opening Whatsapp to see if he was perhaps shooting a message through there. And, let the devil be speaking, finally you saw the long awaited; Henry is typing…

With your heart beating loudly in your chest, your finger kept on the proverbial trigger, or in this case water kettle, you watched and watched. Waited and waited. 

He removed the message. 

Oh come on! Furrowing your brows slightly, the kettle now coming to a slow boil, you saw it again: Henry is typing… 

Okay, come on now. You just wanted to know when he was going to be back home. That’s all. No difficult question, right? 

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

The microwave started to call for your attention, even though you couldn’t remember ever having turned it on. Keeping your finger on the kettle lever - darned thing - you reached out to open and close the microwave door, the beeping quieting down again. What was it with these machines today? There wasn’t even anything IN the darn microwave. Sighing you returned your attention to the screen. 

Henry is typing… 

*TRRRRRRRRIIIIINGGGGGGGGG*

‘Oh..come on..’ You turned a little, seeing the kitchen timer jitter over the small kitchen table. ‘How..?’ You frowned and reached your free arm out to catch the timer before it walked right off the edge of the white washed wooden surface. And then the freaking microwave started humming like it was heating something up. And..the clock on the wall started to tick real loud. 

Flicking your eyes back and forth between the hellish orchestra that was starting to build up into a crescendo you barely realised when the water in the kettle came to a boil. In fact you could swear the very house was haunted, a soft scratch at the door from a dog that wasn’t there. The clock ticking and ticking. Louder..louder! You felt yourself suffocate as your ears rung, all appliances in your kitchen slowly coming to life. And then there was your phone, stuck in an endless repeat of  “Henry is typing…” 

That was until his message did finally appear. 

And then.. 

Everything became quiet, your eyes rushing over the black little letters that etched the brightly lit screen. 

Henry: Babe. Sorry for hanging up on you. I don’t know how to say this. I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but I just can’t. It’s too much. I fear I cannot give you what you want ..and need. And that’s not fair. For neither of us. You are such an amazing woman and I love you so much, so terribly much, that I just can’t say these words to you, to your face. I would just give in again, postpone the inevitable, delay what I have to do. I can’t do this any longer. Us. I’m so sorry. I really am. Henry.

W-what? 

You felt every fibre of your being falter, your legs stumbling and your arms grabbing onto anything to hold onto. Anything to keep you upright, to solidify the crumbling ground beneath you. You grasped and grasped and reached and reached, fingertips flailing in the suffocating air. But none could stop the truly inevitable; your crash down from paradise. 

It was then, a moment too late that you realised what you DID take down with you in your fall. The kettle, hot water starting to spill from its snout, a fountain of hell-water spitting evil burning tears, scorching splatters, followed by a wave that melted away what Henry had not taken away. Your shell of skin and bones. The pain that coursed through your nerves but a mere echo of the ache that had broken your heart in a million pieces. 

Wailing you reached up, more so for your phone than to save yourself. You needed him, you needed him! You..

--

‘Sweetheart.’ A tender hand caressed your boiling hot skin, streaks of hair stuck to your clammy face. Shooting up in bed you were out of breath from the mere act of waking up. At least..this was you waking up, right? 

Gasp, gasp, gasp. Your eyes wide with shock, you saw the absolute last thing you thought you’d see next to you. 

Henry. 

‘Hey..are you okay?’ His brows furrowed in worry as he noticed the absolutely bewildered expression on your face. Slowly shaking your head you took a shivery breath, your lungs still tight and your skin tingling with the memory of the scorching traces of the boiling water that had melted you away moments earlier.

‘Fuck.’ You gasped, unwanted tears starting to spill from your eyes. ‘I..I..’ Your lip started to shiver, the tears almost having a cooling effect on your hot skin. ‘Hey..hey hey..Sshhh..shhh. You’re safe. It’s okay. It’s okay.’ Henry also sat up and pulled you into the safety of his chest, large arms wrapping around your trembling frame. 

‘I thought...oh gods..’ You angrily wiped away some of your tears. ‘..I thought you left.’ 

‘What? What do you mean baby?’ He cupped your cheek and turned your face so he could search your eyes, your large watery eyes, the white of your eyes reddened with the prickling of the salt water onslaught. 

‘Mwuuu..’ You bawled, leaning into his chest, your nose starting to run with snot that mingled with the tears as they drowned you slowly. 

‘Sshhh..baby I’m right here. I’m right here.’ He murmured, pulling you into his warm, naked chest, his breath smelling of musky sleep and night flights. 

‘I thought you left me.’ You finally muttered, quietly, your tears slowly dying down as Henry’s warm embrace and deep musky scent calmed you, his lips pressing small kisses into your hair. 

‘And why would I do that?’ He asked gently, pressing another kiss on your temple before pulling back slightly, watching your eyes as they quickly averted away from him. 

‘I don’t know. You were away, shooting a movie. And I tried to c-call you..and..’ Another sob broke through. ‘..and then you texted me that you didn’t want to see m-mu-me anymore.’ 

Henry was quiet for a moment, eyes searching your face but you kept looking away. ‘Sweetie..hey..look at me.’ You shivered at his words and your lip started to tremble again. ‘I would NEVER do that. Okay? And what a fool I’d be to let you go. Look at you! You’re perfect for me. Inside and out. Hey..ssshh..shhh..baby..come on..’ 

‘But what..what if that changes? Hmm?’ You finally looked back into those big blue puppy eyes, a worried storm raging behind them. He wasn’t used to seeing you so upset. 

‘People change.’ You muttered. 

‘And so we will. But we can change together. Grow together. I want that. Okay? Now...’ He used both his hands to cup your face, thumbs brushing away all those angry tears. ‘..it was just a nightmare okay? I love you,’ He pressed a kiss on your brow. ‘I love you.’ He kissed the tip of your nose. ‘I love you.’ He kissed your lips, delicately, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his pillowy lips filling your heart with his tender promise. 

And ugh..there was something about your sweet prince chasing away your concerns like they were just another monster to defeat. Like the hailing sun, Henry would be there, his caressing, warm fingers willing you to surrender to his touch. You sighed softly and leaned into his hands. 

‘Again.’ You whispered quietly. 

‘Again what?’ - ‘The kiss.’ You said shyly, blinking open your eyelids, long lashes sticking together with the remnants of your tears. Henry smiled. 

‘Just a kiss?’ He looked deep into your eyes, searching for the true answer there. 

‘Mmm-maybe a little more. To make the bad thoughts go away?’ 

‘Want me to SHOW you how much I don’t want to leave you? How much I always miss you?’ He smiled softly, then pulled you back to his lips, his stubble delightfully scratching against your skin as he placed another kiss on your lips. 

‘Mhm.’ You hummed, deepening the kiss, so eager to make him do just that. Show you just how much he loved you. Because no nightmare could ever win from the truth that was in Henry’s eyes, hands, heart, as he pushed you back down on the pillows, the crinkled sheets beneath you becoming a whole new ocean to drown in, writhe in, his lips claiming every inch of your skin until your tears had been replaced with soft giggles. 

‘Hen..please.’ You sniffled, wishing him to come back to you. ‘Please what? Hmm?’ He smiled against your belly button, flicking out his tongue and using his hands to spread your legs a little wider, creating space for him to crawl on top of you, right in between your waiting thighs. 

‘Please take me.’ You whispered onto his lips, lips that turned up into such a devilish smile that you just knew how glad he was to hear those words come from your bruised lips. 

‘You want that, hmm?’ He purred.  

‘I need you Hen..’ You sighed, closing your eyes as you felt him rub his groin into your soaking folds, experimentally sliding down to coat himself in your juices. 

Here you were, naked as the day you were born, your sweet prince having slain the beast, now ready to claim his prize. And oh..he was taking far too long, far too… ‘Please.’ You muled, wrapping your legs around his waist and trying your best to pull him closer to you..inside of you. 

Henry breathed into the crook of your neck, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. ‘Do you now believe me?’ He said, rubbing his cock against you once more, your core lighting up with desire as skin rubbed onto skin. You keened softly and writhed underneath his touch. Underneath his groin. 

Mmm..that delicious friction. 

But you needed more. So much more. 

‘Not enough.’ You breathed. 

Which was enough to make Henry squeeze a hand in between your bodies, his expert fingers finding your nub before you could even fully understand what he was doing. You gasped as wild electricity burst through your veins, the tears and terror fast forgotten as your body trembled by a whole new onslaught of feelings and sensations. 

‘Oh gods Henry.’ You gasped, clawing into his back. 

‘And now?’ He smiled, biting gently in the soft tissue of your neck. ‘Almost..almost..’ You shivered. 

‘Mm..’ He growled and shifted his weight up..up...and IN. 

‘OH GODS.’ You gasped, your open mouth captured between his lips before you could let out any more throaty moans and gasps. With a practised jerk of his hips he was snugly sheathed inside your trembling walls, ready to show you just how unwilling he was to let you go. And he was more than eager to show you again..and again...and again..one thrust at a time, his finger keeping up that much desired friction on your nub, until all you could think and feel was Henry. 

Henry, Henry, Henry. 

The sheets were your ocean as you swam in love, no dream quite managing to touch you like this, make you feel like this. Oh, how great this primal dance was, your limbs entangled and your moans a song that were only meant for his ears and his ears only. A dance you practised often, and gladly. Especially after he had been away for just too long. 

Like he had been now. 

Oh, how eager you both were to close the distance between you two until there was no inch more to gain, your bodies practically one. 

‘FUCK.’ He growled, teeth nipping on your jaw as his steady rhythm became more frantic, more alive, more needy. The restraint of your sweet prince could no longer hold back the bear that thundered deep inside Henry’s chest, the beast ready to chase his end of the bargain. 

‘Gods baby.’ He groaned, hips stuttering as the end was so very near now. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, his weight pressing you deeper into the mattress with every rough jerk, every flinch of his muscular physique. Until all you could do was give yourself like he gave himself to you. 

‘Gods I missed you baby.’ He breathed, the vague scent of airplane still hanging around him, bringing with it the memory of how many weeks you've had to miss him. How lonely your shared bed had been.

You could only nod, hands clawing into his back as he spasmed, a final war cry leaving his bruised lips. 

For the slightest moment you were truly one. His body collapsed into you, his heavy breath ghosting over your shivering skin. ‘I love you.’ He whispered, pushing himself back on his forearms once he somewhat regained his strength. But you protested. 

‘No.’ You whimpered, begging him to lay back down on you. Cover you like a weighted blanket. He frowned slightly - ever careful, because he truly didn’t want to hurt you. 

‘Please, stay.’ You whispered. 

And so he did. He stayed. 

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss​ @tumblnewby @magdelen69​ @thereisa8ella​ @mary-ann84​ @darkbooksarwin​ @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 4

Trigger warning for suicide and suicide baiting.  Starts and ends at the * asterisks.  

.

There was something wrong with the school.  Other than it being entirely within Midoriya’s head.  It was… ominous.  Foreboding.  The way the walls joined together was wrong.  The colors on the posters clashed.  The incomprehensible background noise made by the bright blurs was jeering, mocking.

It reminded Aizawa too much of his old school, the one he went to before UA.  Of the looks and the hate he got just because his quirk frightened people.

But Midoriya had a straightforward physical quirk.  Correction: he appeared to have a straightforward physical quirk.  Even if he’d had the bone breaking problem, he shouldn’t have experienced anything like that.

Aizawa was shoved, hard, from behind, and that shouldn’t have knocked him off balance, but it did.  He tumbled, painfully, to the ground.  There hadn’t been anyone there to push him.

Except the blurs.

He cursed inwardly.  He had been too fast to dismiss them, he realized, as cruel laughter rose up around them.

“They can touch us,” said Aizawa.  “Be careful.”

“Yes, sir!” said Iida, sporting a black eye already.  “I apologize for my inattention.”

More laughter.  An older, but still indistinct voice rose above the sound, along with a taller blur.  A teacher.  The condescension in the tone made Aizawa’s teeth hurt.

He caught sight of Suzuki ahead.  “Come on,” he said.

“Let me try something, sensei,” said Todoroki.  He raised his arm, and ice filled the hallway, pushing out to either side.

The blurs ignored it.  The jeering increased in volume.  Aizawa could make out individual words, now, like ‘useless’ and ‘freak.’

“Good thought, Todoroki,” said Aizawa.  He tried not to let his trepidation show.  He had a feeling this was going to be difficult.

The children looked at him in horror.

“Sensei,” said Iida, “you’re being… encouraging?”

“Just follow them,” said Aizawa, pointing.  He wanted hazard pay for this nonsense.

“Yes, sir!” said Iida, zooming off.  He was immediately tripped again.

Luckily, Suzuki didn’t seem to be having much more luck.  The blurs, which Aizawa guessed were somehow Midoriya’s memories of his former classmates, were just as violent with him.  Aizawa couldn’t see Midoriya anymore.

Laughter.  One of the blurs scratched at Aizawa’s side and murmured tauntingly.  They passed a nurse’s office where nothing but cold words and cold winds emerged.  The hallways smelled like smoke and sugar and things that had to be related to quirks.

There was a loud ring overhead, and the blurs abruptly vanished.  Despite the burns Aizawa had suffered (when?) he forced himself to speed up.

He almost caught Suzuki before he entered the classroom.

Iida slipped on the tile floor, hitting him from behind, and all of them skidded into the classroom as a tangled mess.  Aizawa hadn’t been this clumsy since he was in middle school.  What was going on?

Midoriya was sitting at a desk, hunched over and muttering.  The desk was, to put it nicely, ruined.  Even from Aizawa’s current perspective, he could make out some truly hateful things carved into the wood and metal.

Aizawa dearly hoped that this was exaggerated.  Even so, he was going to seriously talk to Midoriya about therapy and taking legal action against this hellhole.

“What are you hiding?” asked Suzuki, roughly.

*

The classroom exploded into sound, blurs at the desks solidifying into outlines, into ghosts.

You’re also applying to UA, aren’t you, Midoriya?

Midoriya froze and buried his head in his arms.  Aizawa, halfway up with the intent to stop whatever this was, felt himself freeze as well.

This mindscape affected him far too much for his peace of mind.

The ghosts laughed, long and hard and cruel, the teacher did nothing to stop it.

Then Bakugou’s shade exploded.  Literally.  The smaller Midoriya barely had time to throw himself back, away from the blast.  Midoriya’s reflexes had much improved since middle school, but, honestly, even this much was impressive for someone of his age.

Come on, Deku!  Forget the crappy quirks, you’re totally quirkless!

… What?

Aizawa missed the next several sentences as his mind whirred, trying to comprehend what he just heard.  But then another explosion brought him back, and Bakugou’s next words were completely unmissable.

If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life… go take a swan dive off the roof!

Just like that, whatever was holding them in place broke, the ghosts fading away entirely, leaving the classroom completely empty except for them and Midoriya.

Midoriya who was shaking, fists clenched, tears running down his face.

“Are you happy now?” he demanded.  “Are you happy?  Why couldn’t you just let me-?  Me being quirkless in middle school isn’t hurting anyone!”  He took several deep but uneven breaths, his shoulders trembling.

Uraraka stepped forward, and Midoriya flinched.

“Izuku?” she said, hesitantly.

Midoriya looked up, his expression guarded.

“The first thing I’m going to do when we get out of here is punch Bakugou.”  She said it cheerfully, one hand in a fist.

Midoriya gaped, but some of the oppressive, terrified, atmosphere dissipated.

Aizawa sighed to himself.  Now that the immediate danger seemed to be over, he moved closer to Midoriya.  He wasn’t sure if it was even possible to comfort a memory or a fragment or figment or whatever this was, but he wanted to be between Midoriya and Suzuki.  Especially given that Suzuki seemed to be able to manipulate the environment to some extent.

“Plus ultra,” agreed Todoroki.

“Uraraka!  Todoroki!” gasped Iida, scandalized.  “You can’t just punch a classmate outside of school supervised sparring!”

“I love you Iida, but you’re a bit of a hypocrite sometimes,” said Uraraka.  “Especially considering, uh…”  She gestured vaguely at Iida’s hands and then Midoriya’s face.

Iida turned a very funny color, then looked down at his hands.  “Oh my god, you’re right…”  He whispered, horrified.  “What have I become?”

“Besides,” said Todoroki, “Aizawa is like, right here.”  He gestured at Aizawa.  “We can ask him if we can—”

“No,” interrupted Suzuki, “that can’t be it!  Show me what you’re hiding!”  He started forward only to be jumped by three extremely annoyed hero students.  Just to be safe, Aizawa activated his quirk and kept it trained on the man.

“Mind the gun!” reminded Iida.

Ah, yes.  The gun.  Which the man may or may not have recovered at any point due to the impermanent nature of everything here.  Lovely.

“Midoriya,” said Aizawa, “he’s after you.  Get out of here.”

“Yes,” said Midoriya.  “Sorry, sensei.”  He bobbed in an incomplete bow and turned to the door.

And there was that stupid gun.

Aizawa wished he had his capture weapon back.

“What are you keeping secret?” demanded Suzuki, his voice echoing somewhat.

Midoriya clutched his head and screamed, falling to his knees.  His body vanished entirely, but the sound remained, somehow.

The classroom fell apart.

.

Very briefly, Tenya recognized Hosu.  The smoke, the alley, the distant, indistinct cries of Manual.  It wasn’t the alley where he’d found Stain standing over Native, however.  This was… this was Midoriya’s perspective.

The scene shifted again, rapidly.  They were now in the entrance tunnel to the sports festival arena.  The air smelled of smoke.  Todoroki startled, but—

It fell away.  A hallway in UA, the smell of coffee.  Then, one of the soundproofed conference rooms, papers on a table, the writing all blacked out.  Suzuki lunged for them, Aizawa punched him in the face.

Another shift, a dilapidated apartment with footprints on the walls and ceilings.  A microwave hummed in the background.  As soon as it dinged, they were elsewhere again.

Back on the beach.  The light was different.  A single car still remained and—

They were on a rooftop.

The wind blew mournfully.

Midoriya was standing at the edge, uniform in disarray, a burnt notebook clutched in one hand.

“Stop it!” he shouted, almost doubled over.  “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

Tenya took a step forward before he could fully assess the situation.  If he tried to grab Midoriya now…  There was a good chance he’d go right over the edge.

“There it is!  That smile of his is just a mask—”

“Of course, it’s a mask, you idiot!” exclaimed Midoriya, angrily.

Angrily.

Midoriya rarely got angry.

“I am clinically depressed, and I have anxiety!  That doesn’t make me a villain.  Are you stupid?  Are you on drugs?  Is the whole commission on drugs?  All Might’s smile was a mask ninety percent of the time!  And don’t you dare try to tell me that Hawks’ smile isn’t a mask.  Do you do this to him, too, you sicko?”

Suzuki had gone very stiff.  “How do you know about that?”

“Because I have functioning eyes, unlike virtually everyone else, apparently.  What is wrong with you?”

“You,” said Suzuki, “are in no position to ask questions.  What are you hiding here?”

“You really want to know?  Do you?  Do you?  Huh?”

“Midoriya—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, I can’t take this anymore, this is so stupid.”

This Midoriya was… also not quite right, it seemed.  Beyond age.

“You want to know why this place is a secret?  Fine.  Fine!”  He threw his hands on the air.  “This is the first and last place I seriously considered suicide.  Happy?”  The last was said with such an incredible amount of venom that everyone took a step away from Midoriya.

“Suicide?” said Tenya out loud, unable to stop himself.

“I didn’t want to—Hero courses filter stuff like that out!  If they think you’re going to be a liability!”  He was breathing heavily.  “Are you happy now?  You have my- my deep, dark secrets!  You know what- what I was like before, and—”

“Midoriya,” said Aizawa, gently, “it’s fine.  UA doesn’t filter for that.  All you would have to do is attend extra counseling.”

“Really?” said Midoriya.

*

“That can’t be it,” said Suzuki.  “You…” He whipped his head around.  “There was someone else here.  Who stopped you?  Was this where All for One recruited you?”

“What is wrong with you?” demanded Tenya, activating his quirk long enough to skid to a halt right in front of Suzuki.

Suzuki looked past him as if he weren’t even there.  “Who was with you?”

A faint breeze picked up.  Without power, can one become a hero?  No, I should think not…

“All Might?” said Uraraka.

“All Might?!” repeated Suzuki incredulously.

The scene changed in a blink.  They were in a pedestrian tunnel.

Midoriya, as disheveled and tiny as he was on the roof, leaned up against the wall, clearly wary of them in general and Suzuki in particular.

First contact… whispered a voice that dragged across Tenya’s mind like the end of a silk curtain.

“First contact?” said Suzuki.  “What is that supposed to-?”

“Hey!”

They turned to see a figure standing beyond the tunnel’s mouth, in the sunlight.  They were tall and slender, perhaps as tall as Tenya, and wearing a hoody and disposable medical mask.  The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Tenya couldn’t place it.  It sounded like the owner was about their age.

“Ha!” said Suzuki.  “This guy definitely isn’t Midoriya!  You have to admit-!”

“Are these guys bothering you?” asked the boy in the hoody.

“Yes,” said Midoriya.

“Well, don’t worry now!  Because I am here!”

“Are you… a vigilante?” guessed Tenya as the unknown boy stepped into the tunnel.  Many of them had an appreciation for All Might.

“Sure!” said the boy, cheerfully.

“Mutation-based speed enhancement,” muttered Izuku, sliding across the wall towards the boy.  “Fire and ice user.  Five-point activation mass alteration.  Quirk negation with secondary minor telekinesis.  Some kind of thought or memory manipulation, possibly a form of telempathy that allows him to alter the local environment as a side effect.  May have a truth-detection component.”

A thread of ice wound down Tenya’s back.  Even if he didn’t believe that Midoriya was a traitor, that he was giving information about them so freely to this stranger, as if they were enemies, was chilling…  Even if it did evolve that this was just a figment of his imagination…

“Ha!  It’ll take more than that to get rid of me!” said the vigilante, pointing a thumb at his chest.

If Tenya wasn’t mistaken, however, there was a bit of a wobble in his voice.

“Mass alteration can act like freefall.  No conscious control of how much mass is altered, can only reduce mass,” continued Midoriya, now hiding behind the taller boy.  “Ceiling of absolute temperature alteration from average is lower for fire than for ice.  Speed enhancement can be used to power kicks.  Mind the capture weapon.  Scarf.”

“Gotcha!”

The vigilante lunged for Suzuki and threw him bodily into Aizawa.  While the adults were recovering, the students moved to flank the stranger.  He attempted to throw Uraraka in the same way, but she got him with her quirk and he floated towards the ceiling, which he kicked off, enough power in the movement to clock Todoroki in the jaw.

Tenya attempted to apply a kick at the vigilante’s exposed but still-floating back, but was nearly stabbed in the eye with a pencil by Midoriya.

“Sorry,” said Midoriya, breathlessly.  “Sorry.  I didn’t do this for real.  I thought about it.  But I didn’t.  Sorry.”

“You thought about stabbing me in the eye?”

“No.  Muscular.  The sludge villain.  I thought—Maybe I should have.”  His muttering rapidly became unintelligible.

Tenya was distracted enough by the muttering that he took a second longer than he should have to react to Midoriya going after his bad shoulder.  The tip of the pencil dug right into it.

“Sorry, sorry, this is a dream, I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

“Disengage!” shouted Aizawa.  “There’s no point in fighting these guys!”

“The hell there isn’t!” said Suzuki.

“Dissension among the ranks, eh, villains?” asked the vigilante.

“Hey!” complained Uraraka.  “Don’t lump us in with him!”

The vigilante, somehow, got a hold of Aizawa again.  Despite his young appearance, he had a lot more skill than Iida, or even Midoriya.

Aizawa managed to get a blow across the boy’s face, knuckles knocking his hood and mask askew, and—

He would recognize that smile anywhere.  Even if it wasn’t paired with the floppy bangs they had all come to know.

“All Might?!”

.

Toshinori tried to ignore his growing headache as he laid out supplies.  Izuku was sleeping, and they were safe for now, but it would be foolish of them to assume that the Hero Commission would just let Izuku disappear.  The infinite variety of quirks in the world all but guaranteed someone with a tracking quirk would be after them, and soon.

Thus, it behooved them to disguise themselves.  

In this day and age, the easiest way to do that was to make it look like you had a quirk other than your own.  The bulky coat he had selected included a high collar and an apparatus that covered everything below the eyes, suggesting a disturbing or difficult-to-control mutation.   Of course, he’d also have to wear sunglasses.  His eyes were unfortunately distinctive.  The hair would have to go, too.

For Izuku, though, he couldn’t stand the thought of completely cutting his hair off—it would look strange in someone so young, anyway—so instead he had retrieved the hair bleach.  White hair, combined with a suit and properly worn tie, would make him appear older.  Lifts in his shoes would add to that impression.

The computer pinged.  Toshinori went to it and made a face.  He wasn’t technologically inclined at all, but Six was and had been a different story.  The computer was old, but Six was very good, and large organizations only rarely changed their protocols.

The commission had their tracker, a young rescue hero named Trace.  She was on her way to UA.  The details of her quirk…  Yes.  They could potentially even keep her away from the safehouse, if they took the opportunity to cross their paths…  But they would have to start preparing to leave now.

Izuku woke with a gasp and an anguished cry.  The pain in it was echoed by a spike in Toshinori’s headache.

Toshinori rushed to the room.  “What’s wrong, my boy?”

“They’re not in my head anymore,” said Izuku, knotting his fingers in his hair.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” asked Toshinori, even as he knew it wasn’t.

Izuku shook his head.  “They’re not in my head anymore.  They’re in yours.”

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 39)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5

Part 40: here

...

LEWIS POV

Lewis comes to welcome the dark interludes which provide a brief reprieve from the parade of fake-Arthur-memories. The cold, empty silence is preferable to the increasingly dour scenes depicting the day-to-day struggles of fake-Arthur and fake-Vivi as they fail at dealing with fake-Lewis’s death. Not that either of them know about his death. Arthur doesn’t remember the cliff or the body snatcher, thinking fake-Lewis is alive and lost somewhere. Vivi doesn’t remember him at all. He’s been erased completely from her mind, leaving her confused and Arthur distraught.  Lewis has no idea how long he’s spent watching them struggle. The scenes come and go at varying lengths and changing levels of detail.  He must have lived through several weeks’ worth of fake-memories now. Months of Arthur’s life flit by, broken up into chunks. 

...

A conversation with Vivi, trying and failing to convince her that the other-Lewis had existed at all.

“Lewis…you know, Lewis. Please remember.”

“I’m sorry, I blanked out for a second there…what were you saying?” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing…”

“Oh shit…I was...how long was I out for this time?”

“An hour...You were gone for an hour.”

 “I’m sorry Arthur.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Was my fault…Mentioned something I shouldn’t have.”

Fights with Lance when the older man attempts to intervene and stop Arthur’s increasingly destructive behaviour.   

“This behaviour isn’t healthy.”

“What am I supposed to do!”

“Maybe, stop and actually think about this…” 

“Lewis is out there somewhere, and you want me to just give up!”

Hours spend online and in police stations trying to convince people to look for the other-Lewis. 

“Kid. You’re friend is listed as missing. We have alerts out in the neighbouring states and so far there’s been no word. Search parties, caving experts, were combing those old mine shafts for six days after you came in. There was nothing there.”

“Something happened there...something bad...if you would just...”

“The cave is just a regular cave. Those old mines are old mines. Nothing weird or spooky about them, just very easy to get lost in. There’s nothing more to be done so go home, eat a hot meal, get some sleep. If your friend shows up you’ll be one of the first to know. ” 

...

 It’s like watching a highlight real, only nothing about these memories is a highlight. He’s almost sure the fake-memories are selected and purposefully skewed towards negative experiences. Surely, even if this were real-it’s not real, it can’t be real-Arthur’s life wouldn’t be this bad without Lewis there.  

When the darkness falls away, transitioning into another memory, Lewis wants to yell out in frustration.

…

…

…

Lewis’s eyes open of their own accord and he’s looking out at the world, experiencing life from his friend’s perspective.

…

…

This memory starts with Arthur staring as a door handle, hesitating to pull it open. Lewis recognises it of course, he’s seen this door serval times, scattered in amongst the most recent lot of fake-memories. It’s the door to Vivi and Arthur’s apartment in Milton, faded green in colour and rusted around the hinges.

Arthur lets out a long breath which tranistions into a yawn, fiddling around with a set of keys with his one, good arm. Lewis tries not to worry when his friend drops the keys to the ground, hand slightly shakier than usual. Arthur probably hasn’t been sleeping properly. Not-sleeping is a running theme for this fake-memory-Arthur.

When the door does finally swing open, it is to reveal an irate Vivi. She is blocking the flat’s narrow entryway, her hands on her hips, expression creased into a scowl.

“In what universe does ‘I’ll be back early’ mean 11:30 pm?”

Arthur winces. Lewis can’t see his expression but his friend is probably grimacing. Most memories that feature both Vivi and Arthur involved an argument of some sort. Another form of torture for him no doubt. Seeing them struggle to come to terms with his disappearance was always a painful viewing experience. Lewis braces himself for some sort of emotionally charged argument, wishing he had the power to intervein. These fake-memories are some of the hardest to sit through.

“A lot of the guys in the lab work late hours.”

Vivi looks unimpressed, “And I suppose they’re all recovering from a recent amputation as well are they?”

“It’s been four months …It’s healed plenty.”

Lewis feels the echo sensation of pain as Arthur drops his bag to the floor, freeing up his remaining arm. Arthur lying to Vivi about his wellbeing is another common theme in these fake-memories. Vivi knows it too, Lewis can already see the tension in her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Arthur tries to reassure, skirting around Vivi, avoiding eye contact. “The prototype for the new arm is almost done, we’re just waiting on the guys in programming to double-check some of the coding….”

“This new arm isn’t going to be worth much if you’re too exhausted to do anything with it.” Vivi interrupts angrily, following Arthur as he slinks past the small kitchen towards bedrooms at the back of the apartment.  

Lewis feels her grabs the back of Arthur’s shirts, pulling the other up short.

“I said I’m fin….wait.”

 Vivi drags Arthur to the narrow kitchen bench just big enough to fit two bar-chairs, ignoring his objections.

“Sit.” She orders, stopping over to the frig, pulling out a bowl and thrusting it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave makes the following quiet twice as uncomfortable. Even Lewis feels it.

Arthur clears his throat to speak and is cut off when the microwave lets off a loud ping.

Vivi all but slams the streaming bowl down in front of Arthur.

“You really don’t have to…” Arthur tries.

“Oh yeah? What did you eat for dinner?”

Silence.

“Lunch?”

“…”

“Because I only know you ate breakfast because I was there for it.”

More silence hangs between them.  

“Eat.” She instructs and glares until Arthur picks up the spoon. Lewis can feel Arthur shift in awkward discomfort as he starts eating. After living through so many of these fake-memories, Lewis is becoming an Arthur body language expert. 

“How was work?” Arthur breaks the silence, glancing at Vivi. She is sitting with her arms crossed, still upset, still annoyed. Lewis can read the worry fuelling her frustration clear as day. 

Her expression clears as she deliberately puts the issue of Arthur arriving late to one side, “Work was good. Duet is a real character but they’re nice and super knowledgeable when it comes to the occult and other supernatural stuff. They’re helping me research memory-related curses and whatnot. The first person, apart from you, who doesn’t think I’m crazy. So that’s a plus.”

“When my arm is fixed, we can hit the road and follow up on any leads you hear,” Arthur murmurs between mouthfuls and Lewis wishes he could face-palm because that is the exact wrong thing to say. Not for the first time, Lewis longs to be physically present so he can smooth over the sudden tension which spikes in the room.  “Or we could go before that…I mean…I don’t really need two arms.”

“It’s not urgent or anything,” Vivi responds with the forced cheer of someone holding back on speaking their mind. “I bleary notice that the memories are gone most days. Your arm is more important.”

 “Don’t say that,” Arthur stops eating to frown.

“Don’t say what? That I’m fine postponing the search for my memories for however long it takes you to get better?”

“That’s not…what I mean is that your memories are important.”

Vivi’s expression hardens, becoming terse, “Not more important than your health.”

Arthur tenses.

“My missing memories can wait,” She insists. “I’ve been doing fine without them. Especially now we live here and not in Tempo. I haven’t had a blackout since we moved.”

“It’s not just that…” Arthur retorts, frustrated.

“Then what.” Vivi snaps, almost yelling now, “Do you hear yourself speak?  ‘I don’t really need two arms,’…are you kidding me!  What could possibly be more important than your health.”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

Vivi lets out a long, frustrated breath, standing. “You promised, when we moved closer to the hospital labs, you promised that you’d make an effort to actually look after yourself.”

Arthur doesn’t respond as Vivi continues.  “When your arm is finished. When you look like an actual person and not a zombie. When we don’t have to have this conversation every day. Then we’ll go searching.”

The bar stool squeaks on the floor as Vivi pushes it back, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got work early tomorrow. You should sleep as well…when you’ve finished.”

A long silence stretches between his two friends, all the heat gone from the argument. Lewis can’t see Vivi anymore, Arthur’s vision is now fixed on his spoon which is resting on the lip of the bowl.

“I would tell you everything…if I could…” Arthur doesn’t look up. His voice is strained.

Vivi pauses in the doorway. “I know.” She sounds tired. Lewis’s heart aches. “That doesn’t change anything.” 

Arthur flinches.

A sigh and Vivi adds, “I better not find you awake in an hour because I’m going to set my alarm to check.”

“What?” Arthur finally looks up. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and will.”

“…but you just said you have work in the morning.”

“If you’re not gonna sleep then I’m not gonna sleep.”

“But….”

“Just the way it’s gotta be apparently,” Vivi finishes, strolling out of the room, leaving Arthur- and, through him, Lewis- to stare after her.

Arthur slumps, “God…damnit…” rubbing his eyes. There’s no anger to the word.

No matter how many times he’s seen Arthur and Vivi argue in the weeks and months following his counterpart’s death, it never got any easier.  They were both too stubborn for their own good. Arthur’s got a quiet, methodical stubbornness about him while Vivi is loud and abrasive. Mix that with emotional stress and an obvious concern for one another and the result was a whole load of tension. Lewis knows Arthur has low self-esteem and tendency to beat himself up and blame himself for stuff that definitely wasn’t his fault, but he’s never seen him this bad. It never seemed like that big a deal when both him and Vivi had been around to help.  Vivi too, he’s never see her so stressed and angry at seemingly everything.  Or maybe Lewis doesn’t know Vivi or Arthur as well as he thought he did. 

There is movement in the corner of the room and Lewis notices Mystery for the first time. The not-a-dog had been lying in the corner.

“What.”

Mystery just cocks his head to the side.

“I know you can understand me,” Arthur mutters, shifting with discomfort. Mystery doesn’t speak or do much of anything, trotting out of the room after Vivi. Not too surprising. Another trend in these illusions was that Mystery tended to just sit and watch.

Sometimes, Lewis wonders if he just imagined the whole ‘giant fox’ thing. His memories for the car park confrontation are fuzzy, he’d been in a lot of pain at the time and probably suffering a bit of blood loss. He’s lived through so many of these memories that the real would seams so far away. Then he remembers those shinning teeth biting into him, and very real physical pain. That was real. 

The real world was still out there. 

None of these memories were real. He had almost forgotten. 

“I’m not crazy,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing the dog uneasily before turning back to finish what’s left in his bowl. Lewis can’t read Arthur’s thoughts, but he suspects that his friend might be having similar doubts about Mystery’s true identity as well.

“I’ll find you, Lewis…”

For a second, Lewis thinks Arthur is addressing him directly before remembering that that’s impossible. This fake-memory-Arthur is addressing the ghost of a best friend he doesn’t know is dead. Lewis is only a passenger, watching life through Arthur’s eyes, invisible and stranded.

“I’ll find you …no matter what it takes. I’ll find you. And everything will go back to normal…”

…

…

…

The memory fades, darkening and Lewis is once again back in the dark.

...

...

...

“DAMNIT!”

He slams both fists into the ground, watching the darkness ripple under the impact. His yell doesn’t echo, swallowed by the nothing.

“Damnit…DAMNIT…DAMN IT ALL!”

Feelings of frustration and anger smother his hurt and sorrow. He growls, smashing his fist into the ground again. If this were the real world, he’d have to worry about bruising his knuckles or breaking his fingers. The void offers little in the way of resistance. 

“I GET IT, ALL RIGHT! They’re miserable…they’re struggling…I get the point!”

Nothing responds to his shouting. He’s alone. He shouts again, screaming into the void. He’s stopped questioning the motive behind what he was seeing long ago. They were illusions masquerading as his friend’s memories. Designed to hurt him as much as you can hurt a person without touching them.

“Just stop already!” He rages. Nothing responds.

 Fury, white-hot, is better than the creeping sadness threatening to drown him. Sure, being angry about things had never worked well for him in the past. He’d been a very angry child and it was only thanks to his adopted patents and then Vivi and Arthur that he’d put the unpleasant emotion behind him.

None of that mattered here. Here, in the dark, the anger is his only defence against the green bastard’s torture.

Lewis regrets not punching the asshole when he had the chance. He wishes he’d done a lot of things differently. Lewis continues yelling right up until the dark once again fades into another memory.

..

NOTE: Resurrecting this fic in anticipation for a possible new video maybe? One can only dream. Sorry if it reads slightly different, i’m a bit rusty.  

Part 40: here

[tiredpjofan]

Will You Fight At My Side?

Jason kept talking. “Apollo wasn't the problem. To punish him for Gaia waking is --” He wanted to say stupid, but he caught himself, “--unwise.”

“Unwise.” Zeus' voice was almost a whisper. “Before the assembled gods, you would call me unwise.”

Jason's friends watched on full alert. Percy looked like he was ready to jump in and fight at his side.

Then Artemis stepped out of the shadows. “Father, this hero has fought long and hard for our cause. His nerves are frayed. We should take that into account.”

Jason glanced around at the rest of the gods, noticing all of them had their eyes averted in an attempt to avoid coming between their king and his son and ending up on the receiving end of both of their ire.

Really? Jason thought angrily, I just fought for them not even ten minutes ago, and this is the thanks I get? Not one god sticking up for me? His thoughts must have been visible on his face because Percy made eye contact with him and twitched his head slightly, a message (I've got your back, whatever happens) that was as clear as day for Jason who had spent the last months fighting alongside him, but not so much for the gods, or the rest of the demigods. Although Annabeth was looking suspiciously between the two of them; Jason could practically see the gears whirring inside of her head.

The air molecules around Jason were humming threateningly, it felt as if he had stuck his head in a microwave. But, despite this, he inhaled deeply, stared his father in the eyes and continued to speak, “Yes, father. I do not see why Lord Apollo must be singled out for punishment. He is not the only one at fault here.”

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